Cas's Logical Sequel
by CastielLovesDean
Summary: This is the sequel to Cas's Logical Suggestion.  I highly recommend reading that first.  This sequel follows Dean's prank-induced pregnancy at least through birth.  Slash.  Mpreg.  Dean/Cas. Sam/Gabe.  Implied Bobby/Marcy Ward.  AT during S6
1. Prologue

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Prologue**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: This is the Sequel to Cas's Logical Suggestion. I highly recommend reading that first. If you don't feel like it, but plan to read this anyway, you should know that Gabriel altered Dean's anatomy as a prank, resulting in Castiel getting Dean pregnant. It's a girl. This sequel follows Dean's pregnancy at least through birth. Slash. Mpreg._

_Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel, implied Bobby/Marcy Ward - I just think they're a cute couple, and it's unusual for me to feel that way about a het pairing._

_Disclaimer: Here's a shocker. Are you ready for this one? I hope you're sitting down... I do not own Supernatural. Or anything, really._

_Warning: Mpreg! Yay!_

* * *

As it turned out, two bites of peach cobbler and a sip of decaffeinated coffee wasn't enough to satisfy Dean's hunger, especially now that he was eating for two. After their hug in the living room, Cas paid Gabe back for his shenanigans in TV Land, trapping the Archangel in his own little prison for a time-out so Dean could go back in the kitchen and eat unmolested. Sam had scampered off pretty quickly, presumably to do some research and maybe whack off (he loved research), and Bobby was still at Marcy Ward's house after spending all night there, so it was just Dean and Cas in the kitchen, arguing over who should make breakfast.

"Cas, I'm fine! I can cook my own damn breakfast."

"You're pregnant, Dean. You should be resting."

"I'm, like, an hour pregnant." God, that was weird to say. "I may not know as much about this as Sam, but I'm sure he'll tell you when he gets back from the library that I don't need to be on bed rest just yet." He watched Cas remove a box of All-Bran cereal and stare at the box. "Do you even know how to cook?" Dean rightfully pointed out.

"I'm not an idiot, Dean, I can figure out something as simple as breakfast." He turned the box over to read the back. "Now, where are the directions?"

"For cereal? Give me that!" Dean took the box from Cas and put it back in Bobby's cabinet. As if he'd eat any cereal other than Lucky Charms. "Look, Cas, this whole protect-and-nurture thing is cute and all, but I don't want to be coddled. And I definitely don't wanna eat food cooked by someone who needs directions for cereal."

"Would you prefer me to get Gabriel to make you something?"

"No!" Dean protested forcefully. "God, no! How about this: cooking's not that hard, alright? Why don't I just teach you some recipes?"

Castiel seemed to weigh his options in his mind. Dean could just imagine Cas planning to keep him locked in the panic room, maybe even tied to the bed until their child had arrived. Finally Cas agreed, "I suppose your solution is logical." He opened the refrigerator and asked, "What are we making this morning?"

Dean wanted to start with something easy. Not cereal easy; no, that would border on insulting. (Though clearly Cas needed direction there, too.) "How about scrambled eggs? You need four eggs and some milk. First, crack the eggs in a bowl and mix them with a fork." As he watched Cas mix the eggs together, shells included, he figured it was going to be a long nine – er, _ten_ months.

_

* * *

_

TBC.

_A/N: I know this isn't anywhere near long enough, but since I'm posting it at the same time as Ending C to Cas's Logical Suggestion, you can all stuff it. (Just kidding.) Also, to be fair, I called this a "prologue" instead of a chapter for a reason. This will start being regularly updated after I've posted Ending C to Cas's Logical Suggestion._

_Please Review!_


	2. Chapter 1

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 1**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_I did some online research and found that the only noticeable pregnancy symptoms before week 5 are related to the menstrual cycle (as in bleeding). I don't wanna go into that with Dean (eeeeeeeew!) so I'm just gonna wait until week 5 to start writing the symptoms in, okay? That'll be around New Years Day._

_Disclaimer: Here's a shocker. Are you ready for this one? I hope you're sitting down... I do not own Supernatural. Or anything, really._

_Briankrause pointed out that Dean wasn't angry/vengeful enough with Gabe to be in-character, which was totally true. Here's my attempt that it; I hope it measures up._

* * *

After the eggshells incident, the rest of breakfast went smoothly. For all of Cas's social inadequacies, he was actually a quick study, provided he had the right instruction. Just as they – well, _Dean_ finished eating his breakfast, Sam walked into the room, books piled in his massive arms from his belly button to his chin.

"Hey, guys!" he greeted them enthusiastically. "So, Cas," Sam wondered as he set the heavy stack on the cluttered kitchen table, "how long are you planning to keep Gabe in that circle?"

Cas scowled as he collected dirty dishes to put in the sink. "Until he's sorry for what he did to Dean."

"You know, I think he's pretty sorry."

"So Gabe's outside in a circle?" Dean inferred.

"Yeah, he's next to that rusty old Bel Air."

Dean got up to leave.

"Where are you going? I thought we could do some research." He waved around a book titled _The Pregnancy Book_.

Dean looked at the pathetic, confused look on his otherwise intelligent baby brother's face and answered, "I got ten months, remember? Can I start research this weekend? Besides," he lied, rubbing his belly for sympathy, "I'm a little tired."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Okay." It didn't even occur to him that he just woke up and shouldn't need sleep so soon. "Before you go, check out the movie I got for us to watch." He handed Dean a DVD.

Dean read aloud from the case. "'As part of a fertility research project, a male scientist agrees to carry a pregnancy in his own body.'" He did an annoyed double-take. "_Junior_?" he demanded. "You got _Junior_? That's not funny, Sam."

"It's not a joke, Dean; it's research."

"You know this isn't real, right?" Dean clarified, waving the DVD case around. "It's a movie; it's fiction. It's _bad_ fiction."

Sam scoffed, seemingly hurt. "Fine. I'll watch it with Cas."

There was a loud porcelain clatter from the sink area where Castiel was manually washing dishes, and Dean snickered to himself. Poor Cas. "That's between you two. I'm going to bed."

Sam shrugged and went back to organizing the pregnancy books. "So, Cas, guess it's just you and me."

"It is," Cas agreed.

"Hey, look at what this says in the third month: 'Another Reason for Being Tired, Moody, and Constipated.' Maybe Dean's been pregnant this whole time and we didn't even know," he joked.

Castiel frowned. "To my knowledge, Dean doesn't suffer from constipation. Besides, he would have had to have been in his third month for years, which is impossible. I suspect he's just an emotional person."

Sam sighed, wondering when Cas would start picking up on sarcasm. Would his little niece figure it out before her Angelic daddy? Probably. He skipped the chapters in the book that covered pre-conception and conception since Dean was already pregnant, starting instead with the first month of pregnancy. He almost read it aloud to Castiel for educational purposes, but then he realized that, as an Angel of the Lord, he most likely knew everything there was to know about human anatomy. He instead read silently to himself, trying to ignore how awkward he felt being alone with his boyfriend's brother. Or his brother's boyfriend. Whatever.

He hadn't even finished the chapter before he heard a loud 'pop' from the salvage yard he recognized as gunfire. Castiel disappeared before Sam could even stand from his chair to run outside and see what was wrong.

* * *

"That's between you two. I'm going to bed," he lied. He left the room without giving Sam the chance stall him further. It was a little surprising to Dean that Sam couldn't tell he had diabolical plans for Gabe, considering what the bastard did to him, but in retrospect, he was grateful his plot wouldn't be interfered with.

First, he quietly exited via the front door and grabbed a cheap, folding lawn chair he knew would be there. Second, he went to the trunk of his car, chair in tow, and removed his favorite sawed-off and a box of twelve-gauge shells to go with it.

"Hello, Dean!" Gabe greeted him as he approached the circle. "What'cha got there?"

"Oh, you know," he answered nonchalantly, setting up the folding chair and sitting in it, "just the usual. Chair... gun." He checked the gun to confirm that it was fully loaded; that was mostly for Gabriel's benefit, since Dean always kept his guns fully loaded unless he was cleaning them.

"What for?" Gabriel asked as if he were a small child asking why people had so many teeth.

"What are guns usually for? It's for shooting." He pumped the gun, aimed it at Gabriel, and pulled the trigger.

"Ow!" Gabriel complained loudly and doubtlessly with a bit of acting involved. "What the Hell are you doing?"

Dean pumped the shotgun again, coolly catching the hot, ejected shell flying through the air.

"I'm wondering the same thing, Dean," he heard Castiel add, suddenly next to him.

Dean didn't jump, flinch, or otherwise startle – he was used to Cas's sudden appearances. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He leveled the gun on Gabe and pulled the trigger again.

"It looks like you're angry with Gabriel."

"Oh, I'm not angry," Dean denied, pumping the gun yet again. "High blood pressure's not good for the baby, remember? Nah, I'm just keeping my aim sharp since I'm gonna be out of commission for nearly a year. Don't wanna get rusty like last time."

After the third shot, Sam came running up in a full panic. "What's going on?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Everything's fine," Dean insisted, pumping the gun in what he hoped was a menacing way.

"Everything's not fine," Gabe argued. "Dean's being mean to me!"

Sam caught his breath. "Dean's 'being mean' to you?" he repeated. He flinched when Dean shot Gabe again.

"See?" Gabe complained. "He's shooting me! Look at all these bullet holes! And the blood stains? This is my favorite coat! It might never be the same again!"

Sam was unsympathetic to his boyfriend's plight. "Yeah, well, thanks to you, Dean's pregnant. _My brother_ might never be the same again."

"He seems like the same old stubborn, ill-tempered," another shot, "soft-around-the-middle _dick_ I've always known him to be!"

"Hey!" Dean protested. "I'm not 'soft around the middle!' I'm pregnant. And whose fault is that?" He shot Gabe again. "Yours." He cocked the gun again. "And if I seem 'ill-tempered' to you, maybe I'm hormonal because I'm pregnant. I forget... why am I pregnant? Oh wait. That's right." He shot Gabe again. "Because of you!" he screamed.

"It's not entirely my fault! Castiel helped!"

The sky darkened ominously. "Don't you dare lay blame on me, Gabriel," Castiel threatened. "I was not involved in your twisted, juvenile prank."

Everyone stared at Cas anxiously. After a few heavy moments, Dean asked, "Would you like to shoot him?"

"Thank you, but not now." Cas disappeared who-knows-where.

"How about you, Sammy?" Dean asked Sam.

Sam ignored Gabe's pitiful look. "I'll take a raincheck. How about you? Need me to get you more cartridges?"

Gabriel gasped in shock at Sam's cavalier attitude towards his [nonexistent] pain.

"Maybe just one more box." Dean chuckled immaturely. "This is more fun than I expected." Dean shot Gabe four more times while Sam was retrieving him another box.

"Call me if you need anything else. Maybe a candy bar to eat in front of him teasingly."

"Hey!" Gabe scolded.

"Actually," Dean realized, slouching in the chair, "I could go for some candy."

Dean spent all day 'practicing' on Gabriel. Cas sat next to him most of the day and even took a few shots himself. Sam also sat with them, reading pregnancy books mostly to himself. Around three in the afternoon, Bobby came home with Marcy, and he taught her how to shoot using Gabe for target practice. It came disturbingly natural to her to shoot at a man trapped in a circle, but everyone there had seen stranger things, so they ignored it.

Despite the surprise pregnancy (and maybe even including or because of it), it was a good day. In fact, the first few more-or-less symptomless weeks went fairly smoothly. But then, three or so weeks into the pregnancy, they stopped being symptomless. In fact, everything those damned books said would go wrong seemed to all go horribly, painfully wrong all at once.

_

* * *

_

(Obviously) To be continued.

_A/N: I'm in a fic competition with Tashilover. When one of us posts, the other has three days to respond with a post. The loser has to grant the winner a fic request. I could use some extra encouragement to speed things along._


	3. Chapter 2

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 02**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: Sorry this is taking so long. I really meant to get a lot more up before now. I have no excuse. Please don't strangle me with my own entrails. In other news, I hadn't done the calculation earlier, and 3 weeks into Dean's pregnancy is December 29th, four days after Christmas. I really wanted a Christmas chapter, so y'all are gonna have ta wait fer the next chapter fer the pregnancy symptoms ta start. For what it's worth, I promise the next chapter will not take nearly so long as this one. My bad! ^_^ Also, note to self: the due date is around August 30th, 2012._

_I hope y'all are familiar with Goldilocks and the Three Bears._

_December 25th, 2011_

* * *

December twenty-fifth was four days before his pregnancy symptoms hit him like a sack of angry cats, but it was Christmas morning when the reality of his supernatural pregnancy first got to him. Castiel woke him up against his will _("Don't you know better than to wake a pregnant man with a gun?" "I wasn't aware there was precedent.")_ and beamed him upstairs half-conscious. He blinked sleepily at the twinkling lights strewn about the room and the South Dakotan winter sun peeking through the living room windows. After a confused moment, he realized that sometime in the night, his loved ones had decorated the room in celebration of Christmas. The clutter synonymous with Bobby Singer had been cleaned up (or at least hidden elsewhere), a fat evergreen tree had been brought in and festively adorned, and someone had even taken the time to start a cozy fire in the fireplace. Dean wondered how long it had been since it had been used for recreation instead of some counter-apocalyptic life-or-death ritual. "What's going on?" he asked with a yawn.

"It's Christmas, Dean," Sam pointed out condescendingly.

"We haven't celebrated Christmas in years. Not since..." Not since before Dean went to Hell. Damn, but that was a lifetime ago. Sure, it was only four years, but with his memories of Hell firmly intact, it was more like forty-four.

Sam looked just as nostalgic as Dean felt. He cleared his throat and ended the silence, "Yeah. Well, this time next year, our little family will be one bigger-"

"Two if you play your cards right," Gabe predictably interrupted with a crass arm about Sam's massive shoulders.

"As I was saying," Sam continued with a roll of his eyes, "Christmas is a time for family, and since that's what we all are, I thought we should start celebrating it like one."

Dean was truly touched. "Aw... and here I thought I was the only one with ladyparts." Not that he'd admit to having emotions.

Sam sighed.

Suddenly, Dean noticed the presents. Presents just kind of went with Christmas trees, so it hadn't even occurred to him that those presents had to be _for_ someone. Then he felt bad. "I didn't get anything for you guys."

"And we didn't get you anything. Those are for the baby."

Dean did a double-take of the many gifts under the tree. "You guys didn't get anything?"

"Oh, I gave Sammy something. Then he gave me something right back."

"Would you knock it off with the innuendo?" Sam whined with a betraying snicker. "It's Christmas."

"You're really gonna pull the 'blasphemy' card on an Archangel?"

Bobby burst in from the kitchen with a tray of eggnog. "That's enough bickerin', ya idjits! Let's get this over with." He passed out the glasses as everybody took a seat around the tree.

Dean's glass looked different since, of course, since it was alcohol-free, and Bobby didn't want him confusing someone else's glass for his own. Dean and Cas took a swig and grimaced simultaneously, for different reasons. "Wow. Eggnog tastes totally different when it's not mostly rum."

"Bobby makes his eggnog very strong," Cas pointed out matter-of-factly. He looked over at Dean when he realized what he'd just said, then took his eggnog from him. He then proceeded to pour Dean's drink into his own, then vice versa several times.

"Hey!" Dean complained.

"What the Hell're you doin'?" Bobby asked.

"This eggnog is too strong, and this one is too sweet."

"So you're mixing them until they're just right?" Sam giggled.

"Yes."

Dean couldn't help himself. "Smart thinking, Goldilocks."

Cas went cross-eyed. After a confused moment, he pointed out, "My hair isn't golden."

As everyone else snickered at Castiel's classic mistake, Dean patted him on the back and explained, "It's a fairy tale, Cas. A story for kids."

Cas squinted and cocked his head. "I don't understand."

Dean sighed. Not that he'd say it out loud, but he thought Cas was so cute when confronted with pop culture references. "Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Goldilocks is walking through the forest-"

"What forest?"

"Any forest."

"Well, where does Goldilocks live?"

Sam tried to help by clarifying, "It doesn't matter. It's a generic story, Cas. People tell it to their children all over the world. In America, she's American. In Hungary, she's Hungarian. In China, she's Chinese."

"It's fairly rare for Chinese people to have blond hair."

"Then she's adopted."

"There's a low demand for female children in China, given their patriarchal society. Any Chinese family looking to adopt a healthy girl has many options, and would likely not end up with a blond child."

"Then she's albino, okay?"

Cas thought for a moment. "Very well. Continue."

"So Goldilocks is walking through the forest-"

"Is it Jianfeng Ridge? It's one of China's most beautiful rainforests."

Dean sighed. "Sure. So, she's walking through the forest-"

"With her parents?"

"No, she's alone."

Cas got upset. "Where are her parents?" he demanded righteously. "Why do they let her wander the forest alone?"

Dean held his hands up defensively. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there, tiger. I don't know. It's not in the story, okay?"

"Now I understand why the Chinese government wouldn't let them adopt a healthy child."

Dean ignored the stifled laughter from Bobby, Sam, and Gabriel. "_Anyways_, so she comes across this house: the Three Bears' house."

"What kind of bears?"

"Brown bears."

"Brown bears don't live in houses. Or rainforests."

"They have air conditioning. As I was saying, she goes in the house, where she finds-"

"Hold on. She just walked into a strange house?"

"Yeah, and she found three bowls of porridge."

"I thought the bears lived in the house."

"They do; it's their porridge."

"Bears don't eat porridge. They eat fish."

"It's fish porridge. Anyway, she's hungry, so she tries the first porridge, and-"

"She ate a strange bear's fish porridge?"

"Yeah, but it was too hot, so she says, 'This porridge is too hot.'"

"She criticized the bear's cooking to its face? Doesn't she realize it's impressive for a bear to be able to cook at all?"

"The bear wasn't there, Cas; she said it to herself."

"Oh." There was a long pause where Cas seemed to consider something. "I understand now."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yes. She's mentally ill."

"No, she just likes to voice her thoughts out loud. Lotsa people do. Look, just save all your comments and questions until the end, okay?"

"As you wish."

Dean rushed through the rest (most) of the story, and Castiel stayed quiet, just as he'd agreed. All Dean had to do was ignore the wide array of looks that flashed across the Angel's face (and the amused ones from everyone else there). "... She screamed, then ran away from the house as fast as she could. The End."

"Can I ask questions now?"

"Shoot."

"Am I to believe that a chronically neglected, legally blind child can outrun three bears?"

"Goldilocks isn't blind! Why do you think she's blind?"

"Albino people generally have vision problems."

"She's one of the lucky few."

"Dean, this story is nonsensical."

"No, it's a fairy tale. It's just a story for kids."

"One that teaches children that they can meander about in the woods by themselves, break into people's homes, eat their food, and destroy their things with little to no consequence, and that bears live in houses and eat porridge and speak English? Dean, our children are never hearing these stories."

Dean was far too exasperated to argue. "Why don't you write one, if you think you can do better?" he challenged jokingly.

"Very well. It shall be done before she is born."

Dean snorted in amusement, wondering how Cas's logical fairy tale was going to work out. He glanced at Bobby, Sam, and Gabriel and was shocked to see them far too engrossed in his and Cas's conversation. "What?"

"Can we always be there for Storytime With Cas?" Gabe joked.

"Only if we can get on with the gift-opening," Dean conceded. He picked up two gifts and handed one to Cas to open. He looked down at the tag before he opened it; he didn't know why he looked at the tag, but the sight of his daughter's full name on the tag made the whole he's-gonna-be-a-daddy(or mommy, according to Gabe) thing completely, totally real.

_Two days earlier, Dean found Sam in 'his' room upstairs, sans Gabriel. "Sammy?" he greeted seriously._

_Sam looked up from his laptop. "Yeah, what's up?"_

_Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. "There's something I wanted to tell you. I was gonna wait... but then I decided not to..."_

"_You can tell me anything," Sam offered emotionally. "Just let it out. You're gay, aren't you?"_

_Dean scoffed, not expecting a joke from his bro in such a serious situation. "Gabe's really rubbing off on you."_

"_Rubbing off, rubbing on..."_

_Dean cringed. "Dude!" he complained._

"_I'm completely mostly kidding," he insisted with a grin. "Whaddaya wanna tell me?"_

_Dean took a deep breath. "We decided on a first name. For our baby. Well, I decided. Like, years and years ago. I mean, I've always wanted a family, and I figured out a long time ago what her name was gonna be."_

_Sam looked much more interested. "Yeah? What is it?"_

"_Samantha."_

_Sam's eyes got big, round, and teary, and his lip quivered. The sentence, 'I lost my shoe' rang inexplicably in Dean's head as he finally recognized the emo brother he'd raised. "Ohhhh, Deeeeeean!" Sam cried out and hugged his big brother._

_Dean felt sniffly, too – damn those hormones! He leaned into the first hug they'd shared in a long time where one of them hadn't had to die first and allowed a few happy sniffles._

"_Why are we crying?" a jovial voice cried out._

_Oh dear God, Dean thought as he untangled himself from Sam._

"_Aw, Dean, is this your first pregnancy cry?" Gabe mocked._

"_No!" he denied. "I mean, I'm not crying!" he insisted as he wiped a couple errant tears off his face._

"_Don't worry about it, all pregnant women are emotionally unstable. It's just the hormones. Ooh, that's anger right there. See how fast that was? Hormones, I'm tellin' ya."_

_Dean continued to glare at the archangel. "That wasn't the hormones, it was just you. This may come as a shock to you, Gabriel, but you can be a little irritating."_

_Gabe looked deeply shocked and offended, and he placed his palm flat on his own chest. "Moi?" he asked innocently with one too many bats of his eyelashes._

"_Dean and Cas are naming the baby 'Samantha,'" Sam announced happily._

"_Big surprise. For a minute, I was worried you'd pick a name from outside the gene pool. Dodged a bullet there, didn't we?"_

"_Be critical all you want. You haven't heard Cas's top choices for middle names. Seriously, never give him the option to name anything. Not even a Chia pet. It'll grow hands and strangle you in your sleep."_

"_I'm not that bad."_

_Dean's head whipped around. Cas was standing near the door. The room was getting crowded. "Yeah, you are. Cas, there are many great things about you, but I swear to God, you suck at picking names. Samantha's middle name is not going to be Ensnorgapuss-"_

"_Eshargamelat," Cas corrected._

_Dean didn't stop. "Or Bafooku-"_

"_Belessunu."_

"_Or Magikarp-"_

"_Malgumliblat."_

"_Or my personal favorite, Governor Tarkin!"_

"_It's Takurtum, and you weren't even trying that time!" The house trembled ominously._

_For at least a full minute, Dean and Cas obstinately stared each other down in a contest of wills, Gabe pretended there was something fascinating about the back of his hand, and Sam stared at the wall in shock and confusion over what just happened. Finally, Sam broke the silence. "Cas... where did you hear those names?"_

"_They're Mesopotamian," Gabe explained with a wry smile and a dramatic eye-roll._

"_Uh-huh. Well, Cas, that was, what, ten thousand years ago, give or take? Maybe you should try something a little more... contemporary. Here's an idea: I'm going to pull up a list of the top baby girl names from last year, and you can see if there's one you like, okay?"_

_Castiel scowled, apparently still hopeful that one of his original choices would be accepted. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look..."_

_Sam opened his laptop and pulled up the most convenient page. He quickly scanned the page with Castiel, stopping abruptly part way down the page. "There! Number eighteen! It's perfect." Everyone leaned in to check out name number eighteen._

_Gabe winced. "I dunno, Sammy... dontcha think that's a little cheesy?"_

"_I like it," Dean stated decisively. "Cas?"_

_Everyone seemed to hold their breath while they waited for Cas to figure out how he felt about name eighteen. Finally, after what could have been hours, Cas said, "I like it, too."_

"_Yes!" Dean shouted triumphantly, raising his arms in victory. "It's done!" They finally had his daughter's full name._

Samantha Grace Winchester. He read the tag two more times for whimsy's sake, then tore open baby Samantha's first present. Given Castiel's reaction to a common fairy tale, the book set inside the snowman wrapping paper made him cringe. It was a compilation of Dr. Seuss's most popular children's books, including The Cat in the Hat, Red Fish Blue Fish, The Lorax, Green Eggs and Ham, and Oh, the Places You'll Go! He just knew he was going to get an earful about the content of those otherwise perfectly harmless books. He attempted to subtly set the books on the floor out of Cas's vision, but Cas, of course, was paying attention.

"May I see those?"

Dean grinned nervously. "Of course, snookums," he offered awkwardly.

Cas frowned at Dean's new pet name for him as he accepted the books. He inspected the collection as if it were a bomb before he opened it and took out Oh, the Places You'll Go! "I'm surprised a doctor had the time to write all these books. He must not have been a very good doctor." He started to silently leaf through the book since no one was stupid enough to correct him about Dr. Seuss's moniker.

Dean continued opening the presents by himself as Cas read Dr. Seuss, preparing himself to ignore the comments guaranteed to follow. His first chance came after he opened the second gift: a set of pink onesies with the Winchester logo on them. "Niiiiice."

"What the Hell is a Hakken-Krak?"

* * *

_TBC. Like, sooner than later. I'd like to get at least one more chapter up before the season finale._


	4. Chapter 3

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 03**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: This chapter is just one of the many reasons I am never having kids. The first person who says otherwise is getting salted and burned._

_Here I am, waiting to watch the damn season finale because it's not showing in Chicago until Sunday and those inconsiderate assholes didn't give us a legal means to see it. I hate the CW. I'm telling you: everyone's lucky that I'm far too lazy to live out some of my more violent fantasies._

_WARNINGS: Now rated M! Yay!_

_December 29th, 2011_

* * *

Four days after Christmas, Dean awoke to a blinding pain in his stomach. His initial brief thought was that something was wrong with Samantha, but he soon recognized the feeling as ravenous hunger. He groaned dramatically.

Castiel, who never slept and rarely stayed with Dean the entire night, was instantly at his side. "Are you ill?" he asked, worry gracing his alien face.

"No, I'm _starving_!" he bitched. "I swear I'll die if I don't get something to eat right now."

"Would you like me to-"

"Get Sam or Bobby to make something." Before Cas could disappear, Dean grabbed his sleeve. "Ya know what? Get Bobby to make something; I'm not in the mood for a bran muffin with a side of rabbit food."

Castiel didn't bother asking why Sam would feed him food intended for rabbits. Instead, he was standing next to Bobby's bed in an instant, startling the poor elderly Hunter awake and nearly into a heart attack.

"What the Hell, Cas!" Bobby hollered, clutching his chest. Dean wasn't the only one with a flair for the dramatic. "Dontcha know better than ta scare an ol' man like that!"

"Your entire life's pursuit involves being the thing scary things fear. I think you'll live."

"And I think you been spendin' too much time wit' Dean." Bobby swung his fully-functional (yay!) legs over the edge of the bed and looked around for some pants. "Whaddaya want, Cas?"

"Dean woke up very hungry. He would like you to cook him breakfast."

Bobby stopped getting dressed with only one leg in his pants. "Yer pullin' my leg."

"I... have not touched your leg."

"He expects _me_ ta feed 'im? Isn't that why he has a brother and a... baby daddy?"

Cas looked forlorn. "My cooking skills are unsatisfactory. Also, he fears Sam will feed him rabbit food."

Bobby snorted and finished putting his pants on. "Okay. Fine. But yer helpin'."

Cas bit his lip anxiously, a human habit he'd picked up somewhere. "Very well." He popped back to the panic room. Dean wasn't there. He followed his instincts to the nearest bathroom, where he found Dean had locked himself on the other side of the door. He teleported inside. "Dean?"

"Jeezum Crow!" Dean shouted from in front of the toilet. "Do I have to put a freaking bell around your neck?"

"I'm sure that's not necessary."

"Is there some reason you have to watch me pee?"

"I merely wanted to inform you that Bobby said he'd make breakfast for you if I helped. Come to the kitchen when you're ready."

Before Dean could respond, Castiel was gone from the small bathroom. Dean couldn't believe how long he peed. After what he was sure must have been, like, an hour of peeing, he tucked himself back into his underwear and wandered back to his temporary bedroom. He picked a pair of jeans up off the floor and put them on, one leg at a time. But when it came time to zip his fly, he couldn't even get the slider halfway up the chain. "What the Hell?" he mumbled to himself as he pulled harder on the tab. He tried buttoning them – no dice. The buttons wouldn't get closer than an inch apart. Sucking in didn't work, either. "God damn it," he whined to himself, shucking the pants from his legs and throwing them at the floor. He stood there in his boxers, brainstorming what to do about his tragic lack of pants. He didn't have anything with a stretchy waistband, and while he figured Bobby might have something, he didn't have access to Bobby's clothing. He'd have to just go upstairs in his boxers.

Freaking perfect.

Well, at least it was just the five of them; the worst flak he should get would be from Gabriel. "Hey, Bobby, do you have any – oh, hi, Marcy." Dean hid behind a chair. "Didn't see ya there," he chuckled anxiously.

Marcy eyeballed him lecherously. "Hi there, Dean. You don't have to hide from me, you know. You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"Uh-huh." He smiled self-consciously, wondering if she'd ever seen a baby bump on a man before. Probably not. "That's nice. I'll just... go in the kitchen. Cas and Bobby are cooking breakfast, so... yeah." He turned and scurried into the kitchen, where Castiel was preparing to fry some bacon. Yum.

"Dean! What's the matter with you, boy?" Bobby demanded. "Were you raised by wolves er somethin'? Why aintcha wearin' any pants?"

Dean's lip quivered. "They don't fit anymore," he pouted.

"Well, ya can't go runnin' around in yer skivvies!"

"I don't mind," Castiel offered.

"Ooh, me either!" Gabriel shouted. Dean couldn't tell if he'd been hiding there all along or if he just popped in.

"Don't go getting dressed on my account," Marcy begged as she entered the kitchen, adding with a wink, "I'm enjoying the view."

Dean was feeling very self-conscious.

Finally, someone disagreed: Sam sauntered in from the other kitchen entrance and complained, "Dude, put some clothes on! No one needs to see that!" Unfortunately for the oblivious sasquatch, his remark was met with a round of hisses and boos from everyone except Bobby.

"Sammy, my pants don't fit anymore. Can I borrow a pair of yours?"

"Aww," Sam cooed with a big grin. "Sure, man, just go get 'em from my room."

"No wonder your pants don't fit, honey; it looks like someone's growing a little spare tire!" Marcy giggled as she tickled Dean's bump.

Dean ran from the kitchen and up the stairs to Sam's room, hoping everyone just thought he was putting on Sam's pants and not crying like a little girl. He sniffled pitifully as he dug through Sam's duffel bag and came up with a giant pair of jeans. He put them on, then inspected himself silently, noting the way they hung low on his hips and his feet were stepping on the hems. Great. He looked like a small child trying on his daddy's clothes. And for some reason, he still felt like curling into a little ball and sobbing. He fanned his face with his hands as he tried to control his breathing and hoped he wouldn't deteriorate into a full-blown cry.

Gabriel popping in didn't help matters. "So, are you going for the child-trying-on-Daddy's-clothes look or the badass-gangsta-with-low-riding-jeans look? Cause I gotta say, 'pregnant man' doesn't scream badass." As if that weren't bad enough, Sam's too-large pants fell to his ankles of their own accord.

It all became too much for Dean, and the dam broke. He put his head in his hands and started sobbing loudly, pants at his ankles. The air in the room whipped around to the sound of flapping wings, and suddenly, Cas was there instead of Gabriel.

"Dean? Why are you crying?"

"I'm n-not," he lied with a sniffle.

"Lying is a sin, Dean. Now tell me: what's wrong?"

"W-well, first m-my pants wouldn't f-fit... then Marcy called me f-fat and poked my b-b-b-bump... then Gabriel was m-mean to me, and m-m-my pants fell because Sammy's pants are too b-big on me..." He sniffled some more, though he felt calmer than a moment earlier. "It's s-s-stupid, I know."

Cas thought a moment about how to handle this. "Well, Dean, you know Gabriel's an ass."

"I kn-know..."

"And you're not fat, you're pregnant."

Dean's crying worsened. "Then I do look fat!" he yelled.

Cas blinked, not sure what to say. He honestly thought logic would work. Hmm... time for flattery; that tends to work on Dean. "Of course not," he insisted. "You look gorgeous."

"R-really?"

"It was all I could do to restrain myself from ravishing you in front of everyone." Okay, that part wasn't entirely true, but Cas really did think Dean looked best in less.

"You're just saying that," Dean argued with a sob.

"Then it must have been a conspiracy because everyone but your brother was 'saying that.'"

"Not Bobby." Dean wiped a tear from his face.

Cas didn't even have to make this part up. "He didn't want Marcy to see you in such a state of undress, lest she compare you to him next time they're intimate. You're an attractive, virile young man, Dean. You made your older friend feel like less of a man compared to you." Dean snorted in vain triumph, but still couldn't meet Castiel's eye. Cas still had one move left. He stepped into Dean's personal space and wrapped his arms around the man in a comforting (he hoped, as well as not at all awkward) hug. When Dean returned and tightened the embrace, Cas thought his attempt to comfort Dean had worked, but as Dean's hand traveled to his ass, he thought maybe it worked a little too well. He soon found himself on the receiving end of a very insistent open-mouth kiss as he was walked backward and flung upon the queen-sized bed. "Dean?" Cas asked as Dean climbed atop him.

"Yeah, baby?"

That was weird. Dean wasn't really one for cliché nicknames in the heat of passion. "Are we going to have sex?"

"That's the plan." Dean shoved Cas's trenchcoat and jacket off his shoulders and tore his dress shirt open, sending little translucent buttons about the room.

"You do realize this is Sam's bed."

"Mm-hmm." Dean couldn't be bothered to stop kissing Castiel's neck, collarbone, whatever he could reach as he quickly divested Castiel of all his clothes.

"Dean... I feel I should warn you that Gabriel is hiding in the corner." There was a rustle from the corner of the room as if Castiel had somehow betrayed Gabriel.

"That's okay," he shrugged, barely able to pull his lips from Castiel's alabaster skin long enough to speak, let alone notice the shocked expression on his face. "Let him watch." With a double-pat of his left hand, Dean wordlessly invited Gabriel to sit on the edge of the bed. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Gabriel complied.

No one explicitly pointed out that Castiel hadn't exactly consented to this little bit of impromptu exhibitionism, but since he wasn't arguing otherwise, everyone just went with it. It took a minute to get in the full swing of things, what with both Angels feeling a bit awkward with the situation; Cas because he wasn't expecting an audience and he kept glancing nervously toward Gabriel, and Gabriel because voyeurism was only fun since he thought Dean didn't know he was being watched, and that if he did, he'd be furious.

The awkwardness didn't last long. Once Dean set up a proper rhythm, he did that little move that Cas liked, predictably causing the Angel to arch his back and mewl. Dean loved that noise, a noise he'd only discovered a week or two previously. He chuckled as he made Cas mewl again, then huskily breathed, "I love that noise. It drives me _crazy_."

Gabriel smiled. "Have you tried," he started aloud, then finished the rest with a whisper in Dean's ear.

Dean hadn't, in fact, tried that. He wasn't concerned that it was a trick because he knew that Gabriel held sex in high honor and wouldn't want to tarnish it. He tried the new move. Castiel's body contorted unnaturally, and this primitive, guttural noise Dean had never heard in his life came from Cas's throat. Dean slowed cautiously, not sure if that was really good or really bad.

"And that, my boy, is what it sounds like then they're _not_ faking it."

Dean stopped and stared at Gabriel in shock and horror. "He doesn't fake it!"

Castiel came to his senses before Dean and Gabriel could get into a big argument _during sex_, propping himself up on an elbow to take control of the situation. "You!" he sharply bellowed with a finger pointed at Gabriel. He snapped his fingers, and Gabriel was gone. Then he turned his attention to Dean, grabbing the Human by his hair. "And _you_. Stop chatting, keep moving, and do. That. Again." Cas collapsed back on the bed and waited for Dean to comply.

And comply he did.

Afterward, his stomach was growling again, so he went back downstairs. As soon as he stepped through the doors like Clint Eastwood into a saloon, he was accosted by the normally delicious scent of bacon. 'Normally' because this time, it churned his stomach with such a ferocity that no food poisoning or asshat-induced stage-four stomach cancer ever had. He sprinted to the nearest bathroom and heaved bile into the toilet. Eventually, he was just dry-heaving all the nothing he'd had in the last several hours.

Only then, when tears were streaming down his face and his stomach felt like he'd gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson, did Sam show up with a tray of assorted foods and beverages. "Here, rinse your mouth out with this," he offered, handing dean a bottle of water, "and see if eating this helps." He handed him... Dean had no idea what the Hell it was. "What the Hell is that?"

"It's ginger. It's supposed to help with nausea."

Dean heaved again, then took a sip of water and ate the piece of ginger. He put an extra effort into not chucking it up right away, hoping to give it the chance to work, but to no avail. The ginger wound up in the toilet. "What else you got?"

Sam gave him some crackers. They didn't work. Just as the next three or five or twenty-nine things didn't work. Dean was sure he'd die vomiting. At least he'd have something in common with a handful of rock legends. Finally, Sam handed him a bottle of RealLemon lemon juice.

"Nuh-unh," Dean complained. "It probably won't work anyway, and I hate lemons." He retched.

"Try it, you stubborn jerk."

Dean took the juice with a scowl. "Better than a stubborn bitch," he mumbled petulantly and took a sour swig from the bottle. It took all his courage, but he swallowed the load in his mouth. He waited a couple seconds. A couple seconds turned into a couple minutes. He took another fast gulp of the lemon juice, and his nausea didn't seem to be coming back.

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed. "It looks like it's working!"

"Yeah, but now my mouth tastes like lemons!" His stomach really did feel loads better. "And I have to pee. Get out." Dean couldn't believe how long he peed, especially considering that it had only been about an hour since he'd last relieved himself. He brushed his teeth, downed some more lemon juice, then, stomach growling, went back to the kitchen. By then, bacon smell had dissipated, and he was able to pour himself some Lucky Charms without throwing up at sight or smell of the sweet children's cereal. About halfway through his fourth bowl, Gabe appeared at the fridge, bent over and searching inside.

Gabriel noticed before Dean that said Hunter was inadvertently staring at the Archangel's behind. "See something you like?" Gabe asked with a creepy leer, then disappeared as Dean blushed and stammered.

Dean lost his appetite for Lucky Charms as his appetite for something else came roaring back with a vengeance. "Cas!" he called out in a panic.

Castiel appeared immediately. "What's wrong?"

Dean grabbed his arm and fervently ordered, "Panic room. Now." As soon as they were in the panic room, Dean was once again on top of Castiel, pinning him to their bed. Dean needed Cas so bad, he felt like he would explode. The time it took just to get his belt off was excruciating, and for a moment there, he wondered if he would ever experience non-horniness again. He aggressively made love to – okay, fine: he fucked Castiel into the mattress harder than he ever had any of his partners. It didn't take nearly as long as usual to reach release, but when he did, he was still rock-hard and aching for more. When Cas assumed they were done and went to sit up, Dean shoved him back down and growled, "Where the Hell are _you_ going?"

Castiel had put up with a lot of shit from Dean in the time he'd known him – shit he didn't need to put up with since he could easily (and at one time did, come to think of it) pound him into submission. While the part of his brain that still thought like an Angel badly wanted to put Dean in his place, the part that thought like a human thought Dean's bossiness was kinda (very) sexy, and yet another part pointed out that Dean had little control over himself because of his wacky hormone levels. He allowed Dean to trap him against the bed and meekly responded, "I assumed we were finished. I was mistaken."

"Damn right you were," Dean agreed, crushing Castiel's mouth with his own with what would have been bruising force on anyone but an Angel, then picking up where he left off. He had his way with Castiel again, this time only slightly less frantic. By the time he climaxed, he was shaking, sweating, and panting with the exertion, but still sporting The Erection That Wouldn't Quit.

His damn Angel was only slightly ruffled. "You seem tired."

Dean gasped for air. "You kidding? I'm fine."

"Would you like me to be on top?" Cas offered.

"What? Eew! No! What if you poke the baby?"

For a second, Cas thought he must have misheard. "...Poke her?"

"Yeah. You know, with your..." He finished with an obscene gesture.

Cas could hardly believe his ears. "Dean, that is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said. I can assure you that almost no one is that well-endowed, and those that are would be prevented from 'poking the baby' by the mother's own soft tissue in any stage of pregnancy prior to labor."

"But-"

"You may be on top, of course, but let it be due to your own preference rather than absurd conjecture."

Dean fretted internally for longer than Cas cared to wait. Finally, he double-checked, "You really wouldn't poke the baby?"

Cas sighed. "No, Dean, I wouldn't poke the baby."

Thanks to his mortal fatigue yet overly vigorous and medically curious sexual stamina, Dean acquiesced. Three orgasms later, Little Dean was finally satiated. Dean's stomach made an awful churning sound. "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Don't take this personally." He threw himself off the bed and heaved his breakfast into a wastebasket.

The constant puking, peeing, mood swings, and insatiable hunger for both food and sex went on for weeks. It wasn't until his thirty-third birthday that it got better, but when it did, Dean thought it must have been a birthday gift from God, because it was much, much better.

* * *

AN: I thought I'd bring attention to a tragic national/worldwide folly: men everywhere actually think they'll "poke the baby." Please spread the word that that won't happen. Lol, dumbasses. I swear, if the men that lead most of the world didn't have wives telling them what to do, we'd all be dead by now.


	5. Chapter 4

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 04**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: There's a reference to Public Displays of Affection. You don't technically need to read it to read this, though._

_**WARNINGS**: Joke about rape; may be triggery for some people._

_January 24th, 2012_

* * *

Dean's birthday was a good day. He could finally stomach the smell of fried food for the first time in weeks, Sam's pants fit him perfectly, and his bump was still inconspicuous under a hoodie, so they took a little vacation to the Grand Canyon. They stayed overnight, then spent the following day doing tourist stuff. They teleported back shortly after lunch.

Dean took a nap in the panic room, then had a dinner-sized 'snack' around three or four. Sammy had left one of his pregnancy books on the table, and Dean skimmed through it out of boredom, stopping to read the section on week ten of pregnancy (Sam pointed out that these books start counting two weeks before the zygote attaches to the uterine wall, so Dean had to add two weeks to find out where he was at). Partway down the page, the book said that some women start to show in this week. He looked at his protruding belly and frowned. He'd been showing for a while. In fact, he hadn't fit into his own pants in nearly a month. He set the book down and walked upstairs in search of Sam so they could discuss this. As he neared Sam's door, he heard Sam and Gabriel arguing from inside the room.

"That was _not_ cool, man!"

"Oh, lighten up, Sammy."

"'Lighten up?' You practically raped me!"

"Nuh-uh! Everybody knows it's not rape if you yell, 'Surprise!'"

Dean so did not need to walk into that, so he turned around to go back to the kitchen. Sam stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut, and caught up to Dean as he was descending the stairs. "Man, he can be a jackass sometimes!"

"Really?" Dean asked, feigning surprise. "Gabriel? He always seemed like such a sweetheart."

"Shut up, Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean chuckled. As they entered the kitchen, Dean said, "Look, I was looking for you for a reason. I mean, maybe Cas would know better-"

"Know what better?" Castiel interrupted.

Dean and Sam nearly jumped out of their skin. Dean gingerly sat in the chair, melodramatically clutching his chest. "Jesus, Cas! How long you been there?"

"You said my name. I thought you might need my assistance."

"Oh. Good thinkin'." Dean picked the book up to indicate it. "I was perusing this book for a minute when-"

"You were not 'perusing' it."

Dean blinked at his Angel. "What?"

"Peruse means inspect or study in great detail. You were not perusing it."

Dean rolled his eyes and half-joked to Sam, "See, Sammy? Dicks, the lot of 'em." He turned back to Castiel and gestured to his protruding belly. "Should I be this big this early?"

"Yes, you're about as large as I'd expected."

"I dunno, man," Sam argued, "I was wondering that myself. I mean, the books say he shouldn't be showing for a couple more weeks."

"That's right, Sam," Cas snarked unexpectedly, "believe the books over an Angel of the Lord. Those books are solely for _human_ pregnancies."

"Wait... what? Human pregnancies? I'm human."

"But I am not. Dean, you did not think that the offspring of a human and an Angel would be human, did you?"

"Oh, my God! It's the Nephilim!" Sam screamed before melodramatically running from the room.

Dean worriedly watched Sam flee, his hand subconsciously moving to protectively cover his rotund tummy. "Nephilim? What the Hell's a Nephilim?"

Sam burst back into the room, flipping through a Bible. "It's here! It's all here!" he squawked excitedly. "Here! Here! _Genesis 6:3-4_! _The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown,_" he recited nearly too fast to make out. Before anyone could interject, he had flipped more pages and added, "Here, too! There's more! _Numbers 13:32-33_! _So they brought to the people of Israel a bad report of the land that they had spied out, saying, 'The land, through which we have gone to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants, and all the people that we saw in it are of great height. And there we saw the Nephilim, and we seemed to ourselves like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.'_"

Dean went cross-eyed from dizziness. He shook his head to clear it and pouted. "Okay. So... what are you saying, our baby's some kinda supernatural freak?"

"She's not a _freak_," Cas declared vehemently.

"Well, you just said she's _not human_!" Dean yelled, slamming a fist on the table and getting in Castiel's face. "All our closest friends are Hunters whose life pursuits are to _kill supernatural freaks_, so maybe I just want some _reassurance_ that we won't have to protect our _kids_ from our _own people_!"

Dean and Cas glared at each other.

"Alright, ya idjits, what's all the yellin' about?" Bobby demanded as he entered the kitchen.

"Apparently, I'm carrying some kinda mutant hybrid freak-baby," Dean whined.

"I said she's not a freak!" Cas repeated, shaking the house and bursting a couple of light bulbs.

Bobby had grown accustomed to playing mediator to Sam and Dean over the last few years and put his experience to good use. He prioritized how to deal with their argument. "First of all, Dean, don't call 'er a freak."

"Then what should I call her?"

"How 'bout yer _daughter_, ya idjit! Second of all, are you bitchin' about 'er bein' a Nephal, or is there somethin' else wrong?"

Sam and Dean were shocked. "You _knew_?" they asked in unison.

"Knew what? The child of a human and an Angel is a Nephal? O' course; it's Biblical creature lore 101. Didn't you?"

"No!"

"Well then, it looks like a couple a jackasses I know need ta spend more time doin' research and less time doin' Angels."

Sam and Dean had just enough decency to look humbled. "So, what can you tell us about them?" Sam asked. "I didn't find much in the Bible."

Bobby glared at him. "You mean since I saw you fly through my livin' room like a banshee thirty seconds ago? Not much, to be honest; there's not a whole lotta lore on 'em. All I've found is that they're huge, strong, and wicked."

"Is Sam a Nehpal?"

"Dean!"

"What?"

"Sam is not a Nephal." Leave it to Cas to take it so literally.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks for clearing that up, Cas. Bobby, can you be a little less vague? How big are we talking?"

"Well, the lore's never completely accurate, anyways..."

"Bobby! Tell me."

"People claimed they were the size of mountains."

"Mountains. Seriously? How the Hell am I supposed to carry a mountain to term?"

Cas pointed out, "When the people described the Nephilim as mountains, they were being facetious."

"Huh?"

"Sarcastic," Sam whispered.

Dean frowned. "Okay, so how big were they really?"

"They were merely very tall. Since girls are usually shorter than boys, I would expect our daughter to be short for a Nephal – probably not much taller than your brother."

"Than Sammy?" Dean repeated. "How 'not much taller' than Jolly Green here is she gonna be?"

Cas cocked his head in thought. "I'd be surprised if Samantha grew to be taller than seven feet."

"Seven feet. Oh. Is that all?" Dean let out a mock sigh and leaned back into his chair casually. "And here I thought she was gonna stand out in a crowd."

"Do you feel better, then?" Cas asked.

Dean smacked his own forehead. "No, I don't feel better! Do you have any idea what school's gonna be like for her? Kids are miniature sociopaths! They're mean to everyone, and if someone's a little different, forget it! I can't even begin to tell you how many scrawny nerds I personally shoved into lockers."

Sam chuckled. "Dean, she's gonna be the size of an adult by the time she's ten. Nobody's gonna be shoving her into a locker. Besides, didn't you say she'd be strong?"

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "But I think you're focusin' on the wrong part here, guys. The lore also says they're wicked. They were created when Angels went against God's will and mated with humans, apparently infusin' them with some kinda evil. They were so bad, God had to smite 'em all."

Dean looked hopefully to Cas. "Cas? Tell me that's not true."

"That's only partly true, Dean."

"What part?"

"The parts where they were evil and God smote them."

"Come on, Cas, this isn't a joke."

"I'm not joking. They were evil, they wreaked havoc, and the Lord smote them. The key difference here is why. You see, they weren't evil because they were part Angel; they were evil because they were different. You said it yourself, Dean: people are mean to people who are different. People were cruel to the Nephilim because they were different, and thus the Nephilim saw no point in not using their great strength to gain power and make the humans pay. As long as you and I instill our children with compassion, empathy, and a strong sense of right and wrong, wickedness won't be a problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Dean was actually relieved this time. "Okay." As long as Cas was sure, he'd be fine. "At least we know one thing."

"What's that?" Sam wondered.

"She has a promising future as a model. Yeah, it'll be great: she'll have an easy job, meet people, go to parties, become famous..." Dean's brain stopped him. Why did people like fame? For the groupies. That's right: sex. "Scratch that. She's not gonna be a model. Nuh-uh. No way. Never gonna happen." Dean spaced out and wandered off to no where in particular, plagued with visions of his nine-foot-tall eighteen-year-old daughter, who never wore panties because they didn't make them in her size, collecting strange men's phone numbers a dozen at a time. It occurred to him then that he should probably learn to sew... or make Sammy do it.

* * *

Please review! Okay, just this once, because my birthday's tomorrow (June 10th), and I love reviews. They make my day. And I have to work on my birthday T_T Seriously, it'll only take a minute of your time to tell me what you think.

_AN1: For those of you who aren't familiar with the name, "Jolly Green" refers to the Jolly Green Giant. Google it if you're still confused. Really, it's just a reference to Sam being very tall._

_AN2: Okay, the info I got about the Nephilim is just from googling it, so I don't know how accurate it is. I did my best under the circumstances. Also, it's not like I could skim an actual Bible because holy items make my skin sizzle :(_


	6. Chapter 5

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 05**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_Correction: A reviewer rightfully pointed out that Crowley's not British. I think that chapter may have been posted before we discovered that he's actually Scottish._

_ A/N: Yeah, sorry this story is taking longer to write than an actual pregnancy._

* * *

_February 14th, 2012_

Dean had gone on nonstop about how Samantha was going to spend her life wearing turtle-necked mumus and rolling around in a plastic bubble. At first it was funny, even a little endearing, to hear these impassioned, paternal, completely delusional speeches from his older brother, but Sam had had enough enough. "She'll go to the beach at some point," Sam argued finally. "I'm sure she'll want to wear a bathing suit."

"Nuh-uh," Dean denied, shaking his head like an overcaffeinated squirrel. "She can't go to the beach because her bubble won't fit in the Impala and there aren't any beaches within rolling distance."

"Yeah, good luck keeping a fully-grown Nephal in a bubble, man. Specially one as stubborn as you."

Dean gasped dramatically. "I am not! You take that back!" Then his nose started to bleed. It had been like that for a couple days: when he could breathe through it, he inevitably wound up bleeding from it. "Damn it." He pinched his nose sharply and leaned forward. "Cas?" he called out.

"Yes, Dean?" Cas asked, suddenly beside him.

"Could you help me out a little here?"

"You know the effect is only temporary, Dean. Your hormones will just return your nose to its current state."

"Is it so difficult to just poke me in the damn forehead?" Dean demanded.

Cas frowned at the verbal abuse, but reminded himself that Dean was under the influence of a lot of hormones. He healed Dean's nose. Ah, who was he kidding? Dean was always irritable and bossy, pregnant or not.

"Thanks." Dean yawned and rubbed the blood off his upper lip. "I'm gonna go take a nap, guys."

"You just took a nap, Dean. You've only been up long enough to eat a couple slabs of ribs."

"One of the benefits of being pregnant, Sammy. See ya later."

"Dean, wait a moment."

Dean stopped and turned around. "Yeah, Cas? What is it?"

"Have you moved your bowels today?"

Dean groaned. Constipation was definitely not one of the benefits of pregnancy. "Ugh. No. Of course not."

"Well, Dean, you should really-"

"I know, I know. Look, if it starts to hurt, I'll let you know. Otherwise, just leave me alone."

"You should drink your juice."

"I am not drinking prune juice. Not until I'm, like, eighty. And I plan to be dead by then, so if you'll excuse me..." He fled from the room before anyone could force the prune juice down his throat.

ACDC

When he woke that evening, Dean could hear Bobby's house shake and moan under the strain of a Valentine's blizzard. Either that or he was gonna have to get the rock salt. A quick waddle up the basement stairs confirmed the snowstorm. Of course, the snow didn't detract from the eerie feeling of the dark, empty house or the suspicious soft glow emanating from the kitchen. "What the Hell?" he whispered to himself. He grabbed one of the shotguns that practically lined the house and checked the cartridges. Salt. Perfect. He slowly approached the door, stretching out his senses for any sign of evil. He slammed the door open and found himself shocked by what he saw.

Bobby's kitchen was full of lit candles Dean recognized from the older man's ritual supplies. The cheap kitchen table had a clean white tablecloth and was covered in roses and more candles. There was a fancy-looking tall silver lid in front of the chair. Dean was pretty sure the whole place was a fire hazard. Castiel stepped into view holding an obscenely large heart-shaped box of what Dean assumed was chocolate. "Hello, Dean. Did you sleep well?"

"Sure. What's going on?"

Castiel cocked his head. "It's Valentine's Day."

"Yeah...?"

"As I understand it, February fourteenth is celebrated by giving your lover flowers and candy and frequently spent dining by candlelight."

"That sounds about right."

"Then why are you confused?"

"Uh... I dunno. I mean, I guess I just always thought of candlelit dinners and chocolates as ways to get someone in the mood."

Cas glanced at his handiwork. "Is it working?"

Dean chuckled. "Maybe." He sat at the table. "What's for dinner?"

Castiel lifted the silver lid to reveal dinner. "Cheeseburgers."

Dean laughed.

"Is something wrong?"

Dean continued to laugh. "No, no, not at all." He regained his composure. "I just thought it was gonna be something pretentious and unpronounceable. You know: French."

"You don't like French food."

"No, I don't."

"You like cheeseburgers."

"I do!" As if to prove it, he picked up one of the two burgers on the plate and took a bite. It transcended delicious; It was even better than the ones from that seaside shack in Delaware. "Oh my God," he huffed around a mouthful of beef. "This is amazing." He gulped and took a giant bite. "Where did you get these?"

Castiel looked familiarly smug. "I made them."

"Yeah, but who, like, taught you? I've had Bobby's burgers, and they aren't that good. I swear, if Gabriel's been holding out on me-"

"It wasn't Gabriel," Cas insisted with a scowl. "_I_ made them."

"You?" Dean asked incredulously. "I mean, no offense, but a couple months ago you couldn't make cereal."

"I'd never had to eat before. But I've been doing research. I've been practicing. While you've been sleeping for the past two months, I've made two thousand, three hundred, and sixty-seven different cheeseburgers."

Dean swallowed the food in his mouth. "Wow. That's a lot of cheeseburgers."

"Yes, it is. And quite of few of them were... subpar." Castiel scrunched his nose.

"Aww," Dean cooed. "I'd offer to put out, but," Dean frowned at his swollen belly, "I think that might be more of a punishment than a reward."

"It would never be a punishment, Dean. But I put a lot of effort into this, so you should finish your food."

Dean heartily agreed and scarfed down the rest of his cheeseburgers. He looked up at Cas when his Angel handed him a fresh fruit pie. "I love me some pie!" he exclaimed, digging out a piece of pie. "What kind of pie is this?"

"It's a plum pie," Castiel informed him with a straight face.

"'Plum?'" Dean recoiled from the fork as if it were a snake, or worse, a salad. "_Prunes_? You tried to trick me!" he accused venomously. "Using pie! That's _blasphemy_!"

"I don't think you understand what blasphemy is."

"Well then it's worse!" Dean shouted, slamming his fork on the table. "You're trying to disguise health food as _pie_! For shame, Cas! For shame."

"Dean, you've barely moved your bowels-"

Dean crossed his arms defensively and slouched in his chair. "Oh, this is great candlelit dinner conversation."

"-in the past week. I'm just trying to make you more comfortable."

"I'll be more comfortable once Samantha's born."

"Will you at least try the pie?"

"You mean the pastry equivalent of the gruesome offspring of Cthulu and a fluffy kitten? No."

"Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little?"

"No! If anything I was... what's the opposite of exaggerate? Unexaggerate? Dexaggerate?"

"Dean, I worked really hard on that pie. Gabriel even said that it would taste good."

"Gabriel would do anything to trick me into-"

"Gabriel would never lie... _about pie_," Castiel declared seriously.

Dean frowned. He supposed Cas had a point; the Archangel took his sweets pretty seriously. Finally, he sighed and, wincing, slowly put the fork to his mouth and ate the pie. He gently rolled the pastry around in his mouth, expecting the horrifying taste and texture of prune to overwhelm him at any moment. It never did. Actually, it wasn't bad. Not on par with, say, one of Marcy's peach cobblers, but more than edible. "This doesn't taste like prune."

"Well, there are also peaches and apricots and pineapple juice in there."

Dean didn't want to admit that he liked it. "It needs whipped cream."

"You can have as many of those pies as you want. It should help with the constipation."

Dean rolled his eyes. Leave it to Castiel to ruin the moment. "You know," Dean said, pushing the pie aside, "I'll have more tomorrow. Don't wanna overdo it and spend all tomorrow indisposed, right? Are those for me?"

"Oh. Yes." Castiel handed Dean the oversized candy box. As he stood next to Dean, admiring his strong features in the candlelight while the Hunter devoured the chocolates, he wondered if he should tell Dean those chocolates were laxatives before he ate the entire box. Ah, he'd probably be fine.

ACDC

March fifteenth was the first warm day of the year, so Sam and Dean had gone outside to enjoy it. To be fair, it was still slightly chilly, and there was still snow on the ground from a blizzard three days earlier, but fifty-three degrees felt like summer compared to the Hoth-like snowscape they'd been trapped in for over a month. Sam made a little bonfire for just a bit of extra warmth, and the brothers sat at it for a while, staring at the nearby South Dakotan wilderness while Dean ate an entire prune/peach/apricot pie. It had been ages since they'd been able to just enjoy each other's company.

Something was bothering Sam, though. "Man, why are you squirming so much? I mean, is your chair uncomfortable, or...?"

"The chair's fine. It's just this damn indigestion I've been having for, like, two weeks." He shifted and slouched yet again as he rubbed his tummy soothingly.

"Still constipated?"

"Ugh. It's better, but yeah. Thanks for that."

"I'm here for you, man."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "But that's not it - it's like this little air bubble keeps moving around, but it just won't go away. Actually, I think it's gotten worse."

"It feels like something's moving around in there?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Sam smirked a little. "Like a bug?"

"Oh thanks for putting that image in my head, Sam, but yeah, something like that."

Sam grinned like an idiot. "Or maybe a widdle tiny baby?"

Dean sat upright instantly and focused his attention on his 'indigestion,' not even giving himself the chance to poke fun at Sammy's baby talk. Sam must have been right – now that he thought about it, it did feel more like a baby and less like gas. He laughed at the sensation, the concept of I'm-gonna-be-a-dad springing to the forefront of his mind as he reveled in the earliest movements of his first child. "Oh my God," he exclaimed in wonder, blinking back happy tears. "It's her, I can feel it!" He and Sam exchanged a look of wonder and joy as they laughed together into the afternoon.

ACDC

Somewhere else in America, a pretty young woman sprinted up the stairs to the modest apartment she shared with her two friends and fellow coven members. "We can do it!" she yelled gleefully. "We can do the spell!"

"Which spell?" their coven leader asked apathetically, too engrossed in a book to look up.

"The one we thought we couldn't do because it required a live Nephal!"

"Did you find something else we could use?"

"Better! I've found out about a human who's pregnant with an Angel's baby."

"No way!" the third witch shouted excitedly.

"Isn't that fantastic?"

"What's her name?"

"That's the weird part..."

"_That's _the weird part?"

"Yeah. It's not a she. It's a he. His name is... uh..." She fished around in her pocket, pulled out a scrap of paper, and read it aloud. "Dean Winchester."

The other two witches gasped in fear, and the leader finally paid her full attention. "'Winchester?'"

"_The_ 'Dean Winchester?'"

"You fool, he's a Hunter!" the leader scolded. "And a damn good one! There's no way anyone gets their hands on the child of a Hunter and an Angel. Can't be done."

"Well, it couldn't hurt to look into it, could it?"

The lead witch laughed at her. "Fine. You figure out a way to separate an infant from its Hunter and Angel parents," she offered sarcastically, "and we'll talk."

* * *

_AN: For the record, I like prunes. Just don't think Dean would._

_AN2: I figure that just Dean can be afraid of cats while liking kittens just the way he likes kids but thinks people are crazy._


	7. Chapter 6

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 06**

_By CastielLovesDean_

* * *

_April 1st, 2012_

Dean's favorite part of each his three pregnancies was always roughly between weeks fifteen and twenty. During this stage, he could feel his children moving inside him, but they hadn't yet gotten so big that a single kick to his diaphragm could send him to his knees. The days following March fifteenth, twenty-twelve were the most carefree he would ever experience in his life. There was not a single hunting obligation; Gabriel was on his best behavior; even the skies were bright blue and cloudless, only broken up by the occasional nighttime rain. By mid-morning, the foliage was flourishing and the ground was mostly dry. Aside from being a little lightheaded and itchy, life was perfect.

Of course, as Dean's life had proven time and again, nothing good ever lasts. The peace was broken up on April first, also known as April Fool's Day or, after the Church of Winchester would gain national recognition in twenty-nineteen, Gabriel's Day. His round belly had just crossed the vague line between distended abdomen and pregnant tummy. Right in the middle of his tummy, protruding like Ralph Wiggam's nose, was his belly button. It had been an innie all his life. He thought turning it to an outtie was a little weak for Gabriel, but it irritated him nonetheless.

He stormed shirtless through the house and up to Gabriel, who was outside with Sam enjoying the gorgeous weather. "Don't you think this is a little juvenile?" he demanded with a gesture to his navel.

Gabriel cocked his head. "Didn't you already yell at me for this? And then shoot me several dozen times?"

"What? Not the- My belly button! It's inside out!"

Sam squinted at it. "Hey, it's an outtie!"

"That's what I just said!"

"Dean, that's perfectly normal for this stage of pregnancy," Sam informed him. "Didn't you read those books I gave you?"

"Does it bother either of you that I was falsely accused?" Gabe whined.

"Not particularly."

"Dean-"

Gabe crossed his arms and interrupted Sam. "That's not good enough. I want an apology."

"An apology? You know what? That's fine. I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry that I jumped to the ludicrous conclusion that when something went wonky with my anatomy, you had something to do with it. I'm sorry that you have a history of changing the way my body is arranged, and I'm sorry that you're such a jackass!"

"Hey!"

"Dean, come on, man. He hasn't even done anything this time."

"Yeah, isn't is a little early for this kind of wild mood swing?"

"Gabe!"

"Wild mood swing? Wild mood swing? I'm pregnant; I can have any kind of mood swing whenever the Hell I want!"

"As if you have any control over it."

"Come on, guys! Knock it off!"

Dean calmed immediately, but not because of Sam. Well, not his brother Sam, but his daughter Sam. He softly rubbed his rotund belly, focusing on the fetal movements inside. "Shh," he shushed his restless preborn daughter, even though he knew she couldn't hear him yet. "It's okay."

"Ooh, is she moving?" Sam asked, lunging to press both his massive hands against Dean's body. "Lemme feel!"

Dean swatted Sam's hands away. "Do you mind? You haven't been able to feel her yet, what makes you think this time'll be different?"

"She's growing baby, Dean; eventually, I'll be able to feel 'er."

Dean sighed. "Fine. Go ahead." He knew that once Sam felt Samantha moving around, he'd keep one hand on him at all time.

Sam nearly squeed, then felt carefully for any sign of movement. It only took a moment before he felt his niece for the first time. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, making Dean nearly jump out of this skin. "This is so... weird!"

"Hey!" Dean protested.

"What? There's a person growing inside you."

"That's not weird; that's a miracle. And in this case, literally."

"You're welcome, by the way," Gabe interjected, still pouting.

"I never thanked you. I'm _never going to thank you_."

"Now you're just being mean. I don't have to stand for this." With a rush of wind, Gabriel teleported away.

"Thank God he's gone."

"Dean," Sam whined, "I thought this crap was over. He didn't even do anything this time, remember?"

"He still makes my skin crawl!"

"He's my boyfriend!"

Dean and Sam stared at each other in awkward silence. Neither had used the word out loud since they started dating their respective Angels. "That's a little odd."

"Yeah. Lover?"

Dean winced, and suggested, "Significant other?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You've been spending too much time with Castiel."

"Yes?"

Sam and Dean jumped at Castiel's sudden appearance.

When Dean recovered, he shouted, "I thought I told you not to do that!"

"My apologies," Cas said, looking not the least bit apologetic.

"Where've you been all day, anyway?"

The Angel looked instantly suspicious. "I am an Angel of the Lord. I have responsibilities."

"...Okay."

"Cas, how would you describe your relationship with Dean?"

"Sam, don't-"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what label would you give him with his respect to yourself? Like, to me, he's my brother, and Bobby's my friend."

Cas cocked his head in thought. "My brothers and sisters call him my 'baby mama.'"

Sam snickered.

"Oh, ha ha, Sam. Laugh it up."

Sam kept laughing. "Sorry, man, I didn't know that phrase was in his vocabulary!"

"You two are concerned about the appropriate social label."

Dean glared at Sam while he continued to giggle. "Yeah."

"It wouldn't be a problem if we got married."

Sam stopped giggling then, and both brothers stared in surprise at Castiel. Finally, Sam cooed, "Aw, Samantha can be the flower girl! I can't believe my brother's getting _married_!"

"Now, hold on, Sammy, you're getting ahead of yourself. That was a suggestion, not a real proposal, right?" He turned to Castiel for confirmation.

He spent a moment in thought, then responded, "No."

"No?" Dean asked, annoyed at the vague response.

"When I said it, it was merely a suggestion."

"See, Sammy? What'd I say?"

"However... now that I think about it, that's what I want."

"Are you... Cas, are you proposing to me?"

"Shall I find a diamond ring and drop to one knee?"

"No! No, that's not necessary."

The three stood around in awkward silence until Sam nudged Dean. "So answer him, already!"

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. He may not have been the quintessential romantic, but even he knew that proposing to your shirtless, pregnant boyfriend in a friend's junkyard was tacky. Some planning would have been nice. Not that it really mattered, he supposed. Gun to his head, he would admit that never seeing another pair of boobs again really didn't bother him when he thought of his future with Cas and Samantha. He saw the two of them raising their children and loving their grandchildren. He saw a small house with a picket fence and the Impala in the driveway. He saw him and Cas walking their daughter down the aisle toward her much smaller husband. So even though neither one of them had a whole lot of friends and family to attend the wedding, there was no other possible answer but, "Sure, why not?"

"Oh!" Sam exclaimed, glomping Dean in joy. "Of course I'll be your best man!"

"Hey, who asked you?"

"What? I'm not gonna be your best man?"

"I didn't say that! Stop putting words in my mouth! You're ruining the most romantic moment in my life! Geez, I thought I was supposed to be the wildly moody one here."

Sam backed off. "Sorry, sorry!" He stood and waited for a second before asking unsubtly, "So, Dean, is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

Dean pretended to think about it. "Nope. Thanks, though."

Sam gasped in indignation.

"Happy April Fool's," Dean offered.

"That's not funny, Dean."

"Fine, fine. Sam, will you be my best man?"

"Yes!" Sam shouted, embracing Dean with too much enthusiasm. "Hey, Dean?" he asked without letting go.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Problem solved. Now he's your 'fiance.'"

"Hallelujah."

Sam felt Samantha squirm from his spot pressed against Dean. "Oh! Cas, come feel this! Samantha's moving!"

"I can see her, Sam. I don't need to feel her."

"Come on. What'll it hurt?"

"Very well." Cas pressed his warm hand to Dean's stomach. It wasn't long before he felt his daughter's subtle movements through Dean's skin, and he smiled. It was much better than seeing her. He suddenly longed to hear her voice and smell her hair. He just couldn't wait until she was born.

* * *

Far away, Sarah returned to the apartment she shared with her two friends and fellow witches. She'd gotten some interesting information. "Bonnie!" she called out to her leader. "Bonnie, I think I'm onto something!"

"What's that?" Bonnie asked, not genuinely interested.

"I've found some promising anti-Angel spells and sigils!"

Now Bonnie was interested. "Oh, Sarah, be careful. If those don't work and the Angel knows we're trying to take his baby, we're in a world of trouble. For about two seconds 'til we wind up in Hell."

"No! They're good! I'm serious, the Angel shouldn't be a problem at all. All we have to do is get past a couple of humans, uh, Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer."

"Oh, is that all?" Bonnie mocked.

"I'm serious!" Sarah insisted. "Once we've gotten the Angels out of the way, all we gotta do is get past those two and kidnap Dean Winchester."

"Have you been smoking the pennyroyal? You say 'kidnap Dean Winchester' like it's no big deal. If you're serious about this, you need a plan for all of it. One slip and we're dead."

* * *

_TBC. Please review._


	8. Chapter 7

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 07**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: Lol, I'm taking so long to update this story we're almost catching up to the setting. Maybe I should kick this into gear. I mean, I probably won't, but at least I can admit that I should._

_I'm considering writing some companion one-shots including Cas's Logical Fairy Tale, Cas's Logical Wedding, and Cas's Logical Honeymoon. Thoughts?_

* * *

_April 27, 2012_

The violent stomping and angry shouts must have carried to the next county. "And just what the Hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.

"It doesn't mean anything!" Sam defended himself just as loudly.

"Well, it must mean something, or you wouldn't have said it!"

"'I'm sorry?'" Sam shouted. "There's no hidden meaning behind, 'I'm sorry!'"

"Then why'd you say it?"

"Because I accept responsibility for my actions! Because I feel bad about what happened, and because I'll never forgive myself for eating the last damn pudding cup!"

"That was _MY PUDDING CUP_!" Dean bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"_I SAID I WAS SORRY!_"

"What is all the hollerin' about?" Bobby demanded, walking into the kitchen.

"I ate Dean's last pudding cup," Sam admitted wide-eyed.

"Well, what the Hell'd you do that for, ya idjit?" he admonished, stalking to the fridge.

"It was an accident!"

Bobby opened the fridge and rifled through it. "Neither o' y'all saw this pack o' puddin' in the back o' the fridge?"

"What pudding?"

"Here," Bobby offered, shoving the six-pack of chocolate pudding into Dean's arms. "Crisis averted."

Dean shot one last glare at Sam before scurrying off to the panic room to gorge on his pudding in private.

Bobby glared at Sam, as well. "This is goin' on my list of the stupidest crap you've ever pulled," Bobby berated Sam. "Don't you know we have ta live with 'im? I swear, you make him any more difficult, and yer gonna spend the next four months in a hotel. And why are ya wearin' my shirt?"

Sam looked down at his (Bobby's) clothes. "I hoped you wouldn't mind. I only have, like, three shirts, and I can't find any of them. I don't suppose you've seen them."

"No, but two pairs o' my pants an' a few plaid shirts o' mine have gone missin'."

Sam and Bobby exchanged a look. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Bobby frowned. "I gnome-proofed my house long ago."

Sam shrugged. "Perfectly?"

"I think I know how ta gnome-proof a house!" Bobby groused.

"I'm not saying you don't! But, you know, it was a while ago, so maybe something got nudged or something. I mean, unless you have a better idea."

Bobby didn't have a better idea, so they went to work scouring the house for signs of gnomes and redoing all the anti-gnome spells and traps.

* * *

Although Sam and Bobby painstakingly re-gnome-proofed the entire property and never did find evidence of gnomes, they were still losing clothes two weeks later. Even Castiel was sitting with them in the living room, not wearing his trademark trench coat – he'd lost it a week earlier. They were starting to think something really weird was going on.

Dean was leaning against Castiel, and everyone was mesmerized by his belly. Samantha was being particularly hyperactive, and her somersaults were highly visible through Dean's tight abdominal skin. There was even a noticeable difference between her little fists and feet.

Even Gabriel was enthralled by the miracle of life. Granted, it was _his_ miracle, but it was still pretty awesome. Gabriel may have been a world-class asshat, but never let it be said he wasn't fond of children. He was still an Angel, after all. Feeling generous, he reached behind his back and pulled a box of chocolates out of thin air. He gave them to Dean, pulling the human out of his reverie. "I know it's early, but Happy Mother's Day!"

Dean ignored or didn't hear the salutation. He opened the box and popped an exquisite chocolate in his mouth. "Oh my God, these are delicious."

"Get it? Mother's Day? Cause you're pregnant? That makes you a woman."

"No, I get it. These chocolates really are amazing. Got any more?"

Gabriel squinted at Dean, wondering what was going on. Dean was easy to piss off on a normal day. Swimming in hormones, he should have had a hair trigger.

Sam took pity on him and suggested, "Gabe, I'm pretty sure Dean's determined not to let you get his goat."

Gabriel huffed. "That doesn't sound like him!"

"Now, now, Gabriel," Dean cooed, "you do have a point."

"I do?"

"Yeah. I'm pregnant. Technically speaking, I'm Samantha's mother."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed mischievously. "You know, some boobs would allow you to nurse naturally."

Everyone in the room tensed, waiting to Dean to explode. He did not. "Great! You know how long it's been since I've played with some boobs? Forever. Finally, I'll be able to play with some without having to cheat on my awesome fiance. Hey, can you make them big enough so I can motorboat myself?"

Gabriel growled in frustration at his inability to anger Dean, and left in a hurry.

Dean giggled and poked Samantha's protruding foot.

Sam had to ask, "Dean, you don't really want breasts, do you?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I just knew not getting irritated would irritate the irritant."

Sam sighed in relief. "Thank God. I was seriously worried there for a minute."

"Besides," Dean added nonchalantly, "if I did get breasts, Cas could just poof them away when I was done with them, right, Cas?"

Castiel cocked his head. "When did we get a goat?"**

* * *

Ten days later marked the beginning of the end. Despite his very large 6-month belly, Dean was feeling particularly energetic. So was Samantha. He was hilariously attempting to play a little one-on-one basketball with his brother – gently, of course – and not doing all that horribly. Of course, Sam was taking it easy on Dean to keep it friendly, but still, Dean was moving around more nimbly than one would expect a pregnant man to be.

The basketball was forgotten momentarily when Dean stopped suddenly, grabbed Sam's hand, and put it on his wildly writhing belly. Neither one of them were even close to getting sick of feeling the baby dance and tumble. A few seconds later, though, Dean felt a sudden squeezing, cramping unpleasantness near the baby. "Ooh," he whined uncomfortably."

Sam noticed the distress. "What?"

Dean shook his head; the cramp had passed. "Uh, nothing," he brushed it off. "Just a stitch in my side. Ah!" He squeezed Sam's arm and fell to his knees as the cramp suddenly returned with a vengeance.

"Dean! Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean hissed in pain as the cramp took its time subsiding. "I don't know." He panted for breath.

"Cas!" Sam shouted in a panic. "Gabe!"

The Angels popped up on either side of Dean. "What's wrong?" Castiel demanded, his gravelly voice filled with concern.

"I-" Dean stuttered, shaking. "I'm not sure. I- ahhhh!" He held on to Sam for dear life, even as the Angels inspected him. His body shook as he rode out the pain. "Oh, it hurts!" he insisted.

Castiel and Gabriel exchanged a look. "There is nothing wrong with you," Castiel reported.

"What the Hell are you talking about?" Dean cried out in frustration.

"It's just your uterus contracting. This is normal."

"Normal?"

"Oh, I read about this! Those, um, Braxton-Hicks things! They're mild contractions thought to be the uterus practicing for labor."

"What?" Dean gasped. He screamed again as another excruciating cramp overwhelmed him.

When Dean's painful groaning died down again, Sam explained, "In the third trimester, it's pretty common for pregnant women to occasionally experience mild contractions."

"Sammy..."

Sam got close to Dean so he could hear him better. "Yeah, Dean?"

Dean reached out and roughly grabbed the front of his shirt. "If you say 'mild' one more time, so help me, I will kick your ass!"

"Whoa! It's not a criticism, it's just what the books say! They say Braxton-Hicks contractions can be pretty uncomfortable."

"'Uncomfortable?' _Pregnancy_ is uncomfortable. Contractions _hurt_!"

"Hey, why don't we get you into bed; I'll look up how to deal with these Braxton-Hicks things, kay?"

Dean grunted his assent, still reeling from the pain, and flailed ignobly when Castiel scooped him up in his arms. He nearly protested this unmanly treatment, but then another 'mild' contraction hit him, and all he could do was bury his face in Castiel's black suit lapel (he still hadn't found his trench coat) and moan in agony. Once he was in bed, the contractions did get easier and easier until they disappeared altogether about twenty minutes later. Sam did the research he'd said he would and made several suggestions, but bed rest seemed to work just fine. Dean made the mistake of running around some more as soon as the contractions were gone, and they returned.

They came and went for a few weeks. Finally, in early June, Sam pointed out that activity could trigger the contractions and insisted that Dean go on bed rest for the duration of his pregnancy. To Dean's chagrin, the contractions went away completely once he was on bed rest and was therefore logically obligated to stay in bed until the baby was born – in almost three months.

During that time, Sam, Bobby, Cas, and Gabe all had the misfortune of having to see to Dean's every craving and need. Dean's cravings were all over the map (though Gabriel was on that like flies on manure), he got hemorrhoids like nothing he'd ever experienced in hell, everything took turn aching and itching, and sometimes he could barely breathe.

* * *

One hot July morning, Sam was sitting next to Dean on his bed, absently scratching Dean's back, when he noticed something strange: his mattress was lumpier than it should have been. "What the Hell?" Sam murmured.

"Huh?" Dean asked dozily.

"There's... I think there's something under your mattress." Sam lifted the edge of the mattress and pulled on a piece of errant fabric. It was one of his shirts that had been missing upwards of two months. "What the Hell?" he repeated more forcefully. He dug under the mattress, and long-missing clothing just started piling on the floor: three plaid button-up shirts, four pairs of jeans, seven tee-shirts (Sam had eventually bought more, which subsequently went missing as well), and finally, an all-too-familiar tan trench coat. "You little thief!" he accused Dean.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about all our clothes that have gone missing over the last few months! Bobby's been trying to uncover a gnome burrow, and you're the one who's been stealing them!"

"I have not!"

"Oh, really?" Sam held up Castiel's coat. "Then what's Cas's coat doing stuffed in your mattress?"

Dean blushed and looked genuinely confused. "I dunno..."

Sam stopped himself. He suddenly realized what was going on here. "Ohhhh... oh, I get it now! You're _nesting_! That's so cute!"

"That's ridiculous!" Dean exclaimed, turning away and pulling his blanket up over his head.

"It's okay, Dean. You can have my shirts if you want them."

"Pfft. Take them. I don't want your fart-ridden, oversized clothing."

"The fact that you stole them suggests otherwise."

"Get out!"

"Fine, fine," Sam acquiesced, scooping up the wrinkled pile of clothes. He left Dean to sulk in private and went upstairs.

"What the Hell is this?" Bobby called from the living room, where he'd been studying occult texts.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "It's our missing clothes."

"I can see that! What're _you_ doin' with 'em?"

"Dean had them stuffed in his bed."

Understanding flickered across Bobby's face. "Oh, he's nesting!"

"He's _nesting_!" Sam confirmed with a giggle. They laughed merrily at Dean's expense.

"This is just too precious. You're not gonna let him forget this, are you?" Neither of them would.

* * *

Sarah called Bonnie from her cell phone as she drove home.

"Hello?"

"Bonnie! Great news!"

Bonnie sighed in annoyance. "Tell me you're not still on this Nephal thing.

"Oh ye of little faith, Bonneroo!" Sarah could practically hear Bonnie roll her eyes at the nickname. "I met some people open to helping us with our problem. They even showed me this shiny stake they swear up and down will kill an Angel."

"You met some people? Are you bringing another coven in on this? You know eternal youth means less the more people that have it."

"Oh, they're not witches. And they don't need eternal youth. Maybe I spoke wrong. I met some _ex_-people open to helping us."

"Ex-people?" Bonnie repeated. Then her voice dropped ominously. "Vampires? Tell me you're not getting mixed up with vamps."

"No, no! Here's the plan – we kidnap Dean Winchester just before he's due – early, mid August – remove the baby, take a sample of her blood, and leave the Hunter and his baby with the vampires. We go our own separate ways, the vamps take credit for the deaths, and no one even knows what we did."

Bonnie was silent on the other end.

"Bon?"

"I'm thinking."

"And?"

"Let's do it."

* * *

_I have no intention of giving Dean breasts. No worries. I mean, I think if Gabers gave him some without warning, he'd be pissed at first, then like them for about half an hour in the shower, then be pissed again._

_**I don't mean to spam anybody, but for those of you who give to charity from time to time, there's this fantastic type of charity I recently heard about. It's not really new, though. Instead of food, you can buy livestock for a poor family in a third-world country. The family can milk, eat, or breed and sell their livestock. Your donation not only lasts a long time but gives the family the opportunity to become self-sufficient, which I think is much better than any amount of perishable food. Considering the holiday season, this is just something to think about; those interested can google "goat charity." I particularly like oxfamamericaunwrapped dot com. Thank you for your time._


	9. Chapter 8

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 08**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: Some shady stuff is about to go down. Rest assured, I don't believe in character death. Except those witches. Obviously, you can't mess with the Winchester clan and live._

_August 9, 2012_

* * *

In the weeks Dean had been on bed rest, he had gotten on everybody's last nerve. Gabriel insisted on irritating him further, Sam begrudgingly waited on him hand and foot, Bobby avoided him like Yellow Fever, and Castiel had been suspiciously absent. Dean loudly suggested on more than one occasion that Cas didn't want to see him because he was disgusted by his fat, pregnant belly. Sam, who knew what Cas was up to, did his best to reassure him otherwise.

When Castiel's project was complete, he popped in to surprise Dean. Dean was predictably ornery. "Five minutes before I pop, and now you want to spend time with me?"

"You still have about three weeks to go."

"Three weeks?" He glanced down at his humungous stomach. "I look like I'm carrying a litter! I pee every five minutes, and she's already shown a serious preference for Metallica over Led Zeppelin! How can she not be ready to come out?"

Cas cocked his head to scrutinize Samantha. "She would probably be fine if she came out now-"

"So let's go already!"

"-but it's better for the child if she determines when she's ready. If you're not having contractions, she still has more growing to do."

"Oh, come on! Just take her out! Between you and Gabriel, she'll be fine! Just do it!"

"No. She still needs three weeks."

"One week."

"Three weeks."

"One and a half."

"I can make it an even year, you know. You'll be pregnant another two and a half months."

Dean gasped in indignation. "How... I can't... You..." He made a strangled, frustrated noise and conceded, "Fine! I'll just suffer horribly for another month while I'm pregnant with your giant Nephal baby and you're off somewhere else!"

"Very well. In the meantime, I have a surprise for you."

Dean crossed his arms and pouted. "I'm not sure I feel like it."

"Dean. You're being immature."

"Well, you're being a poopy-head."

"Giving you my surprise will require that you get out of bed and walk around a little."

That piqued Dean's interest. He'd barely left Bobby's basement since he was put on bed rest since he could barely waddle, let alone climb stairs by himself. Sam helped him up the stairs once every other day for about a five-minute walk in the daylight, and he spent four of those minutes in a lawn chair. He looked curiously at Castiel. "You promise?" he asked.

"I give you my word."

"Fine." Dean started to get up even as Castiel's magic fingers made his way towards Dean's forehead. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he protested. "What have I told you about teleportation, huh? It completely stops me up!"

"Then there should be no change, as it's been three days since your last bowel movement."

"Man, could you maybe not be such a creeper for just a little bit?"

"What do you mean?"

"How about not memorizing my B.M. schedule?"

"I don't pay that much attention to it unless Sam brings it to my attention."

"You mean Sam's the one who told you I haven't pooped in three days?"

"According to him, it was on Monday at five thirty-seven a.m."

"You two are disturbingly obsessed with my poop schedule." Dean craned his head to see past the panic room door. "Where is the Sasquatch? I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind."

"Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby are waiting for us where your surprise is."

Dean sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this over with." He closed his eyes and allowed Cas to teleport them wherever they were going. He was instantly dizzy and disoriented upon arrival, but it wasn't long before the world stopped spinning and he was able to stand without hanging onto Castiel's trench coat.

The first things Dean noticed were the smell of clean air and the chirping of summer birds. He opened his eyes and saw a long dirt road that extended about two blocks into the woods before it turned right and disappeared behind trees that partially obscured the pink sunrise. He turned around to ask Castiel what was supposed to be so special about a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Then he saw it: a large two-story blue and tan traditional house with a red door, a four-car garage, and natural stone accents behind a white picket fence. The landscaping around the cement path that led from the front stoop to the driveway was attractive but casual. He could see beyond the side of the house that the ground sloped to a small blue lake.

Sam, Bobby, and Gabriel were in the driveway. "Surprise!" they yelled.

Dean looked confusedly. "Where are we?"

"We're near Sioux Falls and Bobby's house. This private road," Castiel explained, indicating the dirt road, "leads to the main road in and out of town. We're about ten minutes from Bobby's house and fifteen from town."

"Yeah, okay, but what's this?"

Castiel glanced at the house, then back at Dean. "The house? I made it. For you. And our future family."

Dean looked at Castiel. "You made me a house?"

Cas nodded, slinging a comforting arm around Dean's shoulders. "We need somewhere to raise our family, so I made this. I thought it was logical."

Dean sniffled tearfully. "You built me a house!"

The others finally chimed in. "I told him the fence was over the top," Bobby complained.

Dean shook his head. "I love it. Very 'American Dream.'" He planted a grateful kiss on Castiel's lips.

Sam laughed in triumph and held his hand out to Bobby. "Pay up!"

Bobby grumbled but slapped some cash in Sam's palm.

"Also," Cas added, "in light of our changing needs as a family, I've modified your car."

Dean's heart skipped a beat. "You what?" he demanded. Sam, Bobby, and Gabriel looked genuinely surprised as the rightmost garage door opened to reveal the Impala. Upon closer inspection, Dean realized his beloved car had been transformed into muscle station wagon. He immediately started to hyperventilate.

"Dean? Dean, are you okay?"

It took a moment, but he finally regained enough sense to speak. "Put her back. Put her back the way she was!"

"Yes, of course." With a wave of Castiel's hand, the Impala was good as new.

Dean's breaths slowed as his panic subsided. He fanned himself for a minute before lunging forward and hugging the car. "Oh, my baby, my sweet baby, my first born!" He kissed the Impala's hood several times. "I'm so sorry!" He kissed it again. "Step-parents can be so cruel!"

Sam slinked over to Castiel. "Wow, man," he whispered, "I can't believe you fudged with the Impala."

"It's just a car," Castiel responded a little too loudly. Everyone cringed.

"A car?" Dean repeated. "How can you ever call her that?"

"It's not a car?" Cas seemed confused.

"Fine, she's a car. But she's not just a car! My baby's been there for me my whole life. She drove me home from the hospital when I was born, she put a roof over me and Sammy's heads while Dad was out hunting, she was even there when I went back in time and convinced my dad to buy her before I was born." He sighed nostalgically. "Man, my life is weird." He shook his head and took a deep, calming breath. "Look, Cas, I appreciate the gesture and everything, but-"

"-Don't fudge with the Impala," Cas concluded for him.

"Exactly. Now, about the rest of the house..."

Cas led Dean up a few steps in the back of the garage and through a door to the main house. A tiny bathroom was on the left, and the archway to the west led to the kitchen and main living area. The dining room was on the far side of the kitchen. Off to the south, the living room shared a fireplace with what Sam called the "sunroom" - Dean had no idea what that was.

The the the southeast corner of the living room led to a staircase, a study, and the front door. There were stairs going both up and down; Dean hadn't realized there were so many floors. What he did notice were the high ceilings, which, as it turned out, were Sam's idea, since their Nephilim offspring were expected to be so tall. They skipped the basement at first with a quick explanation that it had another living area and the door to the backyard. Instead, they went upstairs. The seven doors off the upstairs hall were four bedrooms, the laundry room, a closet, and a bathroom.

Dean and Castiel's room was the second on the left. The decorations were lavish, ornate, and just a little bit kinky: golden open-top canopy bed draped with elaborate tapestries and dressed with very expensive-looking bedding (Dean didn't know how right he was); highly detailed, practically Elven harp in the corner; mirror on the ceiling – and even that was fancy. Dean looked from Castiel to Gabriel.

Castiel glared at Gabe. "What did you do?" he demanded.

"No, it's okay," Dean said. He looked around the room. "I mean, it's not how I would have decorated it, but I like it. I mean, the harp's a bit much, though – it's not like you play it."

"I play the harp."

"What?"

"Of course I play the harp. I'm an Angel of the Lord."

"So I guess that means Gabe plays, too?"

"Yes, but he's better with a horn. If you don't object, I made him prepare a duet I'd like to play for you."

"Oh, you two are going to serenade me now?"

"Yes. Please." He gestured for Dean, Sam, and Bobby to sit on the bed, then took his seat at the harp and started the song.

It didn't take more than a few notes for Dean to ask, "Is that... Led Zeppelin?"

Castiel nodded.

Dean chuckled as Gabe joined the duet. "Hey, Sammy, our Angel boyfriends are playing Stairway to Heaven to us on a harp and a horn. How's that for surreal?" He leaned heavily against Sam. He was so worn out from everything that he was snoring on his brother's shoulder by the end of the eight-minute song. But then, Sam and Bobby were dozing, as well. Dean was awoken by Castiel.

"Dean."

Dean started. "Hm? What?" He yawned and stretched.

"I apologize. Our music can sometimes have a soporific effect on humans."

Dean tried to shake the sleep out of his head. He stood up quickly, letting Sam and Bobby slump against each other on the bed. "I'll say."

"Come," Cas invited. "I have one last room to show you."

Dean yawned again, but waddled after Castiel. Cas led Dean through the door at the top of the staircase: a pink-and-black nursery with the Winchester logo emblazoned on the wall above the crib. The mobile above the crib sported classic car, eighties rock, and angel paraphernalia. A simple silver harp sat in the corner next to the crib. He would have bet good money that the white dressers were chock full of similarly-themed onesies. "It's perfect," Dean whispered in awe. He heard Cas sigh behind him in relief.

"I was worried you wouldn't like it," his Angel admitted.

Dean turned to face him. "What's not to like? I'm almost surprised you were able to come up with this. I mean, who knew you had a flair for design?"

Cas frowned. "I don't. I let Sam and Bobby design it."

"Oh, well, them I can see doing this." He slung his arm around Cas's shoulders. "Look, it doesn't matter who designed the nursery or the bedroom or anything else. Yeah, Sam's my brother, but it's like we're all a family, even Gabriel. I've always wanted one of those." He kissed Castiel's cheek lovingly, then yawned so hard he saw stars. "Hey, Cas, I think I'm gonna go to sleep some more. You wanna lay by me a little?" he invited, heading for their new bedroom.

Castiel stopped him. "Dean, I think we should go back to Bobby's. Sam and Bobby still have protective spells to do on the house. It shouldn't take more than a week."

Dean scoffed. "What, you think someone's gonna just happen to come after me in the next seven days? While I'm surrounded by two Angels and two renowned Hunters? No one even knows I'm pregnant! Being a bit paranoid, don't you think? Come on, let's kick Sam out of our bed and cuddle."

* * *

Two days, later, Sarah woke up to her alarm clock blaring and leaped excitedly out of bed. "It's time!" she declared to her roommate, Lizzy.

"Wha?" Lizzy asked, half-asleep. Lizzy was not a morning person.

"Come on, get up! It's time to kidnap that pregnant Hunter!"

* * *

Sam and Gabriel lived with Dean and Castiel in their home until shortly after Dean and Castiel's son, John, was born in 2017. Near the end of Dean's second pregnancy, Sam had finally agreed to let Gabriel knock him up, and when Sam's belly was huge with twin Nephal fetuses in their fifth month, Gabriel surprised Sam with a home of their own. It was right next to Dean's, of course, since Sam and Dean never would grow out of being disturbingly codependent, but it was also overdone and obnoxious, since Gabriel would never grow out of being overdone and obnoxious.

That December morning, Castiel had just gotten John back to sleep when Dean had to get up and send Samantha off to kindergarten. He kissed his husband tenderly and allowed him to collapse on their matrimonial bed; ever since his Angel had lost his powers, he seemed to need a lot of sleep. Maybe it was just the stress of being a dad. Dean woke their daughter, then went down stairs to make her food. He put her lunch bag and plate of eggs on the table in the sunny dining room, and then he finally noticed it. Directly to the south, right up against the edge of his immodest property, was a river. No, it was a moat – thirty feet beyond the water's edge was a massive stone castle, and as he pressed himself into the dining room's corner for a better look at the front of the castle, he could see a lowered drawbridge. "What the Hell?" he whispered to himself.

There was a tiny gasp behind him. "Daddy!" his four-foot-tall five-year-old daughter reprimanded him. "That's a naughty word!"

"You're right, angel. Daddy's sorry. Eat your breakfast."

She looked beyond him at the castle. "What's _that_?" she asked in awe.

"I think it's a castle."

"It's beautiful!"

"Oh, thank you, sweetie!"

"Uncle Gabers!" she shrieked at seeing her favorite uncle. Dean figured it made sense he was her favorite; they were emotionally the same age. She leapt into Gabriel's arms.

"Gabriel, Sammy's breakfast is getting cold. And then she has to go to school."

Gabriel knew better than to question Dean's authority in front of his kids. "Hear that, kiddo?" he pointed out to Samantha, tousling her blonde hair. "Gotta eat your breakfast. You wanna grow big and strong like Daddy, don't you?"

"I'm gonna be bigger and stronger than Daddy, silly. And much bigger than you."

Dean snorted at the dig. Once all the children were full-grown, Gabriel be the smallest. Still grossly more powerful than any of them, but little.

Gabriel, too, smiled at the jest. She was getting to be quite snarky, and he approved. As she climbed into her chair to eat her food, Gabe and Dean went out front to look at Gabriel's castle. "Ain't she grand?" the Archangel asked.

"It's a castle."

"Yep!"

"Don't you think it's a little excessive?"

"Yep!"

"It's just going to be the four of you in that whole thing."

"Yep!"

Dean squinted at part of the castle. "Is that a tower?"

"Yep! That one's above the study. There's another above the master bedroom." Gabe waggled his eyebrows. "I call that one the Sex Tower."

"Ugh."

* * *

_TBC._

_For Dean's home image and floor plan, go to architecturaldesigns dot com and go to house plan "W73102HS." It's called "Craftsman Detailing with Alternate Versions." The house faces east. For Gabriel's castle, google "Balmoral house plan" and it should be the first link._


	10. Chapter 9

**Cas's Logical Sequel, Chapter 09**

_By CastielLovesDean_

_A/N: So I haven't updated in exactly a year... Happy Anniversary? I stopped watching SPN for a while, and now I'm watching it again, so I think the bunnies have returned. I really, really want to finish this, and I only have a 12-chapter plan, so I'm optimistic._

_Warnings: The rest of the chapters, except the last one, will end on rather unpleasant cliffhangers. Sorry. (Not sorry :P)_

* * *

_August 11, 2012_

_The Empire Strikes Back_ played on the television. Gabriel and Castiel watched it intently while Sam tried not to add his own running commentary. Things had gotten tame in the waning days of Dean's first pregnancy. It had only been about a week, but the group had gotten quite settled into the new "Winchester Estate," as Gabriel had dubbed it. Dean was mostly bedridden, thanks to his condition, and no one wanted to leave him alone in the house, so whenever he slept, Sam, Gabe, and Castiel would just hang out in the living room.

There was a rustle outside the house. Cas was instantly on edge. "Did you hear that sound?" he asked the other two.

"We're surrounded by woods," Sam pointed out nonchalantly. "It was probably an animal."

"Probably," Cas agreed. He stared toward the front of the house a moment longer, then stood abruptly. "I'm going to make sure."

Sam and Gabe shrugged and continued watching _Star Wars_.

Castiel hurried outside to investigate the sound. He wasn't out there ten seconds before Sam and Gabriel saw a familiar flash of light light up the house from the front windows. Instantly, they were on their feet.

"Cas?" Sam called out, hoping to hear the Angel's gravelly voice. Nothing. He tried again. "Cas, are you okay?" Still lacking a response, Sam flipped the lid off the coffee table and armed himself with a semi-automatic shotgun and a machete. Then he called Bobby on his cell phone.

"Yeah?" the older hunter answered.

"Hey, we need you to get over here. Something's wrong."

"On my way."

"Hurry." Sam hung up the phone and stuck it back in his pocket. He cocked the shotgun and took a step toward the door. "Stay back, babe."

Gabriel scoffed. "Aw, that's cute. No."

Sam stopped in his tracks, Gabriel at his side. "Hey, I don't know what's going on here, but something's happened to Cas, and if it can happen to him, it can happen to you."

"So you want me to let you handle who-knows-what kinda crap by yourself so they can't send me away and make you handle who-knows-what kinda crap by yourself? Do you see the flaw in your plan?"

"I want you to go protect Dean!" Sam shouted, pointing towards the stairs.

There was an ominous scuffling noise at the door.

"I'm not leaving you," Gabriel insisted, as if Sam were being a complete idiot.

Sam pulled Gabriel close and kissed him hard on the lips. Then, he rested his forehead against Gabriel's and turn the puppy eyes on full blast. "Please," he begged pitifully, his concern for Dean making him tear up.

Gabriel tried to resist, but the moment he crumbled was written all over his face. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

"You wouldn't go on a murderous, vengeful rampage that leveled half the time zone?"

"Well, _yeah_. I meant after that." Gabriel rose on his tip toes to give Sam a chaste, lingering kiss.

The front door noisily flung open mid-kiss, and Gabriel dissolved in Sam's arms. Sam looked at the intruders and saw the bloody Enochian sigil smeared on the door. He raced to defend the bottom of the staircase. "Dean!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "We've got company!" He raised his shotgun and shot one of the intruders. Then he shot the intruder next to him. He stood his ground well, hitting every target square in the chest, until he ran out of ammunition four rounds later. By then, the first man he'd shot was getting up.

Vampires. Six of them, so far.

Sam flipped the shotgun around in his left hand to use as a club, and raised the machete with his right. The first vampire he'd shot came at him again, and Sam was ready for him. Sam distracted him with the shotgun-club, then lopped his head off in one swift slice. There was an outraged cry from the other vampires. One down, five to go.

Two vampires attacked him at once this time. He could handle two vampires at once, but after killing one of them, he had to sidestep to his left in order to avoid injury from the other. Unfortunately, he ended up at the top of the basement stairs, and as soon as he planted his feet, he was hit dead center with a chair that one of the remaining vampires had thrown. He tumbled down the basement stairs, losing his weapons on the way.

Dizzy and disoriented, he was dragged to his feet and thrown somewhere dark, breaking his nose on the hard ceramic floor. It was the bathroom just next to the foot of the staircase: the _windowless _bathroom. He clambered unsteadily to his feet, blinking back tears of pain, and tried the doorknob. It wouldn't turn. His heart sank to his stomach. They'd locked him in. He jiggled and yanked on the knob hysterically for a few long seconds. When it wouldn't budge, he slammed his shoulder against the door. He knew breaking it open would be a challenge since the door opened inward and the entire house was built to survive... well, anything. "Dean!" he yelled, hoping that, with a little warning, Dean might be able to hold them off long enough for him to break out of the bathroom or for Bobby to get there or Castiel to return.

A boom startled Sam. It was Dean's gun.

He started throwing his entire body at the door.

ACDCACDC

Dean was startled awake by something. He wasn't sure what at first, but then he heard Sam yell, "We've got company!" followed by a shotgun blast. Dean pulled his Colt 1911 from underneath his pillow and sat up against the headboard, then waited. A couple of noisy moments passed. Sam screamed for him again, and the shit hit the fan.

Four vampires poured into the room. Crap. Dean wasn't prepared to kill vampires. Even if he had a sword or large knife, he was hardly in the condition to wield it. He shot at them with his trusty .45, but even the perfect headshots wouldn't decapitate the bastards. That was no reason not to fight back. He emptied the gun of all but the last bullet. The vampires were still keeping their distance a little, as a point-blank shot to the head could potentially blow up their heads. He aimed the gun at each of them in turn, hoping to keep them back long enough for backup to arrive.

Three young women entered the room. The oldest had a sociopathic little smirk on her pretty face. "You can put the gun down, Dean. There's no way you can kill us all with one bullet."

Dean pointed the gun at her. She was no vampire. "Maybe not, but I can kill _you_."

She laughed. "True. But then you'd be completely defenseless in a roomful of vampires. I, on the other hand can control them. It's time, Dean. Feel free to surrender."

Say what you will about his pride, Dean wasn't a stupid man. He counted the vampires and witches intruding his home, thought about his bedridden state and the fact that all these enemies had to make it past his brother and two Angels to get this far. He knew the math. "Fine. I can let you live. On one condition."

"What's that?"

Dean took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his mask of resolve. He locked eyes with the witch over the barrel of his handgun. "Don't hurt my daughter." He'd said that a dozen times about Sammy; funny how history had a way of repeating itself.

The witch cocked her head and smiled wryly. "I'm afraid I can't make that promise."

Dean scowled with rage and gripped the gun tighter, his finger nipping at the trigger. Odds be damned, if he and his child were doomed to the beyond, he'd send this bitch there first.

She raised her hands in placation. "However," she added quickly to stave off her own death, "surrender now and she'll live. Or you can pull the trigger and watch my colleagues devour her while you slowly bleed to death. Your choice."

Sam's desperate calls to him echoed through the house as he considered his options. If the witches were so keen on kidnapping him whole, that meant they needed his or Samantha for something, probably a spell. That meant the vampires weren't allowed to touch them. But if he killed the witch, Dean and Samantha became expendable, which meant that, yes, the vampires would probably eat both of them. At this point, Dean couldn't stop that from happening, and he knew it. There was only one thing to do. He fought a wave of nausea as he dropped his gun on the bed and raised his hands in surrender. He took deep, steady breaths to calm himself.

A vampire confiscated his gun as the younger witches set up candles and various other witchcraft-related miscellany he didn't recognize on both end tables. "Here," the lead witch offered, tossing his phone to him, "say goodbye to Sam. What? I'm not _evil_."

Dean pressed seven and send to speed-dial Sam. It didn't even ring before his brother picked up.

"Dean!"

"Hey, Sammy."

"Dean, are you okay?"

"No. No, I, uh... I don't have all day, I just... I need you to take care of Cas for me, alright? He won't understand."

"I'll find you, Dean. I'll find you, and I'll save you."

"I know," Dean lied. "Sam, I-"

The witch snatched the phone out of Dean's hands and hung it up. "That's enough of that."

Everyone could hear with crystal clarity the string of curses and gruesome threats Sam was shouting from the basement. Dean let one of the vampires tie his wrists together and pull them over his head to the top of the headboard. "You know he'll make good on every one of his threats. You can still just leave."

The witch laughed. "Oh, I'm sure he means every word. And I'm leaving, but I'm taking you with me." The intruders crowded close to the bed as the witches chanted something in Latin.

Dean took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst.

ACDCACDC

Sam didn't know how many minutes had passed while he screamed and tried to break the door down. It couldn't have been that many, but his voice was already starting to go, and his arm might have already been black and blue. Finally, there was a scraping sound outside the door. Sam barely had the chance to recognize Bobby before scaling both flights of stairs four stairs at a time. He ignored Bobby calling after him.

He screeched to a halt just inside Dean and Cas's bedroom door, narrowly avoiding crashing into the door frame, but Dean wasn't there. Neither was his bed.

In its place stood Castiel, desolately staring at the floor where it should have been and struggling to choke down sobs. Cas turned to look at Sam, tears making his eyes shine like stars. "It's too late," he sniffled pitifully. "He's gone. They took him."

* * *

_TBC. Reviews?_


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